


A Second Chance

by Tazzy_Ladynero



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Trinity Blood
Genre: Bad guys die, Because I never saw the lovely actress, Description of boils and treatment, Gods and Goddesses, Human Dragons, Multi, Narcissa is Keira Knightly in my head, Other Characters to be added as they show up, Political and Police Investigation, Slow building but some action, Yes a Quartet, alternative universe, in the HP movies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2018-06-08 03:00:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 56,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6836335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tazzy_Ladynero/pseuds/Tazzy_Ladynero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the request of Albus Dumbledore, Father Abel Nightroad is dispatched to help Harry Potter after his first year at Hogwarts, offering Harry a second chance at a loving home. But Father Abel doesn't realize that he as a second chance at love waiting for him in the Wizarding World.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Father Abel Nightroad

**Author's Note:**

> This was started for the Rough Trade Challenge and as such, it is still rather rough. If you see mistakes, feel free to let me know, and I'll try to get to them. Also please be aware that this is an AU Verse for Trinity Blood. I have taken a bit of liberty with the character histories, and for Trinity Blood, the backgrounds come from my own imagination instead of cannon. As this primarily takes place in the Trinity Blood world, I'll be using its terms for things: Albion is England, vampires are known as Methuselah, the names "Terran" and "Vampire" are insults, and the three main powers in Europe are Albion, the Vatican, and the Methuselah Empire. 
> 
> The chapter titles will be whomever's POV is telling the tale at that time to help.

The sun was shining in the bright blue sky as a playful breeze danced through the Vatican’s gardens, ruffling hair and twitching skirts, causing more than a few nuns to squeal with laughter. More than a few smiles were generated by those happy sounds, including one that appeared on the face of Father Abel Nightroad as he cross the gardens on the way to his meeting. His long silver hair dancing around him from the high tail it was caught in. He had to admit to some curiosity as to why he was being summoned to Cardinal Caterina Sforza’s office as missions had been slowing down with the signing of the Peace Treaty between the three large kingdoms. Those in the Department of Foreign Affairs had been enjoying the peace in between the minor missions to put out brush fires from those trying to fill the void left behind by the destruction of the Rosenkreutz Order’s destruction, but Abel had not heard of any missions in the works that would require a meeting with Caterina.

 When he arrived at her office, he was surprised to find two elderly gentlemen having tea with her. Both were dressed in suits that were fashionable several decades ago but were still very sensible. One had short cropped silver white hair and a walking stick next to his chair that showed a great deal of wear, indicating it was a needed accessory instead of a casual one. The other one had long white hair pulled back in a sensible tail, and a long beard that appeared to be longer than his waist with a little bow tied around it in an almost whimsical way. He also had a pair of half moon glasses perched on his nose, giving him a very grandfatherly image.

 “Thank you for coming so quickly, Father Nightroad,” Catarina said, waving him to an empty chair before handing him a cup of tea prepared the way he liked it. “Masters Nicholas Flamel and Albus Dumbledore have requested the help of one of my best agents in a delicate situation.”

 “What we require is someone to investigate a few things for us, and if necessary, deal with the problem,” admitted Dumbledore, absently pushing his glasses back up on his nose. “The first is the issue of a young man’s security and health. He is being emotionally abused by his relatives, and I could not swear that there is not physical abuse as well.” He sighed and stared at his cup. “I made a desperate yet foolish mistake nearly eleven years ago, and I wish to rectify that.”

 “At the end of the Magical World’s Blood Conflict against the self-proclaimed Dark lord Voldemort?” Abel clarified as he did some quick math. The Vatican had been keeping an eye on the conflict, ready to move in should the situation expand out of the Magical World, but the situation had never progressed quite that far.

 Dumbledore nodded. “Harry James Potter, Duke of Gryffindor, Potter, and Heir of Black, survived the murder of his parents during an attack on his home in Godric’s Hollow. While most of the Magical World celebrated the fall of Voldemort, his followers were hunting down Little Harry. I myself had to fend off three separate attacks by Death Eaters who demanded to know where he was, and I am only thankful that none of them thought to come to Hogwars where he was being tended by the medical witch there. In desperation, I placed him with his mother’s sister, a non-magical woman and set up wards to hide his presence from anyone actively hunting him. Unfortunately, Petunia Dursley nee Evans had me swear a Magical Oath that none from the Magical world would interfere with her life in exchange for her keeping Harry in her home.”

 A faint frown crossed Abel’s face as he realized just how much freedom such an oath would give Mrs. Dursley, yet he also realized that a desperate man would make what he felt was the best decision at the time. “Why have you not taken your suspicions to the police?”

 “The non-magical police would require proof, of which I have none aside from suspicions,” Dumbledore stated. “And if I went to the Ministry of Magic, it would be magicals interfering with her life.” He smiled, looking the part of the benevolent and kind grandfather as he spread his hand towards them. “However, bringing the issue to you as you are not part of the magical government or world neatly bypasses that little part of the oath.”

 Abel hummed, realizing that the older wizard was correct, and Abel would have the freedom to poke around the young duke’s home life. “And the second issue?”

 “We believe that the self-proclaimed Dark Lord Voldemort was never truly killed,” Flamel stated,speaking for the first time. “Last summer, there was some _thing_ trying to get through the wards around my home, and Perenelle suggested setting a trap for it. So, with Albus’ help, we made it seem as if our Philosopher’s Stone was first transferred to a high security vault at Gringotts and then to behind a series of traps designed to slow down the thief until they could be captured.”

 “Such a trap would need constant monitoring, so I had an unused section of Hogwarts repurposed to contain the trap,” Dumbledore explained. “The students were warned away from the area, and those that didn’t listen to the warning were confronted by a very large and fierce looking Cerberus.” He paused and tilted his head. “I must remember to arrange for Fluffy to be returned to Greece soon.”

 “What happened?” Inquired Abel, gently directing Dumbledore back to the topic of the conversation.

 “Duke Potter and his two friends managed to get through the various puzzles protecting the stone, and His Grace went on ahead after Ronald Weasley was injured and Hermione Granger was sent back to tend their injured friend by His Grace,” explained Dumbledore, looking like his years were pressing down on top of him. “I managed to get down to them as quickly as I could with some of my more dependable teachers to find His Grace unconscious, the stone next to him where it had fallen out of his pocket, and the empty clothes of one of my other teachers.”

 Refilling the various cups of tea, Abel knew that the wizard would finish his story in his own time, but he silently prayed to Lady Brigit for patience. The one thing he hated was someone who dragged out their explanation because they fancied themselves a storyteller.

 “He told me how Quirinus Quirrell had been carrying the wrath of Voldemort on the back of his head and that he had collapsed due to pain in his scar,” stated Dumbledore, putting his cup down and folding his hands in his lap. “He has recovered from his ordeal, but all attempts at trying to convince the Ministry of Magic to begin an investigation has been stalled or dismissed by the Minister. Not even my position as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot can get an investigation started with any earnest.”

 Before Abel could ask any questions, Dumbledore reached into a pocket and pulled out a lapis lazuli carved into a small serpent, followed by Flamel. They held out the serpents to Catarina who took them with with slightly shaking fingers. “This must mean a great deal to you both if you are calling in these, gentlemen,” she stated, her voice not betraying her emotional state of mind at all. “A Favor Marker from an Ancient Family isn’t cashed in lightly.”

 “If it will prevent a second Blood War, it will be worth it,” Flamel stated with a shake of his head. “Your agent will also have all my skills and knowledge at his disposal until Voldemort in whatever form and under whatever name is delivered to the Cailleach once and for all.”

 “And I have a decade’s worth of apologies to make to young Harry,” murmured Dumbledore, his blue eyes reflecting his regret. He shook his head and focused on them again. “I pledge my skills, knowledge, and political power to help your agent in whatever he may require during this mission to help Harry James Potter and stop Voldemort once and for all.”

 Caterina inclined her head in understanding before turning to Abel. “Father Nightroad, as you are my best agent, I would assign this mission to you if you are willing to accept it.”

 Abel was silent as he turned everything over in his mind. There was no way this was going to be a short mission, even with just the investigation into Duke Potter’s home life and the fallout from that would take weeks if not months to calm down with someone putting out the little political brushfires that such an investigation would automatically generate. He prefered to avoid politics just to ensure he didn’t cause trouble for his adopted sister in the Empire, but this would throw him fully into the Magical World’s politics if only by being associated with Duke Potter. However it was an intriguing problem, both helping young Duke Potter and also ensuring the destruction of one who caused so much terror and destruction yet slipped through the Dark Mother’s domain.

 “If I accept this mission, there is one thing I want,” he stated, putting his teacup aside to focus on the wizards. “Complete control of the mission from the moment you walk out of this door. I will take your advice under consideration when I make my decisions, but they will ultimately be my decisions. This is as much for your protection as it is mine.”

 He honestly hoped it would be granted, but he kept his expression neutral as Dumbledore and Flamel exchanged looks before Dumbledore nodded. “Of course, my boy. I would only ask in exchange that you keep me informed on the Voldemort investigation. That way, I know where you are and will be better prepared to help in any way, even if it is only offering a suggestion in where to go.”

 “Any and all information that you can give me regarding Voldemort will be greatly appreciated,” Abel remarked with a small dip of his head. “As well as the name of someone trustworthy in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in case I need the Aurors.” He was _not_ going to pull a mission like this without having at least one reliable contact in the DMLE, because if things went pear shaped, he wanted to be able to call on someone for help that he knew wouldn’t send a cutting curse to his back.

 “Madam Amelia Bones, Regent of the Ancient and Noble House of Bones,” Flamel announced without hesitation. “Good woman and strong leader, but her hands are often tied by politics and those that don’t want a strong Auror force.” Dumbledore nodded in agreement, and Abel nodded in understanding even as he wondered how corrupt the Ministry of Magic was to want to cripple the police force.

 Rising to his feet, Abel moved around behind Caterina’s desk to retrieve a pad of paper and a pen before he resumed his seat and crossed his legs. “Now, I have a few questions…”

 The sun was low in the sky by the time Dumbledore and Flamel left, promising to send further information on Voldemort’s past activities, and Abel had filled up a notebook with the answers to his questions. Caterina had occasionally interposed a question, but she mostly allowed Abel to talk while refilling cups and keeping her own notes during the conversation.

 “What do you plan to do for this mission, Abel?” Inquired Caterina after sending one of the sisters to fetch a platter of sandwiches for them to split as a late dinner. “The normal cover is to send you in as a visiting priest, but considering how many magicals feel about the church, you would be lucky to get any assistance from anyone.”

 “I believe I will have to contact Seth to see if I can pose as an Imperial Noble who is looking to expand their business,” Abel mused, tapping the pen on his lips as he frowned at his notes. Most of the rumored Death Eaters had been among the upper echelons of the magical society, and if he wanted to investigate any of them, he needed to be able to move among them with ease instead of having doors slammed in his face.

 He looked up as a telephone was slid across the table, and Abel chuckled as he lifted the receiver. “My apologies now for running up your phone bill,” he stated as he started to dial a specific phone number in the Empire.

 “It can be written off as a business expense,” Caterina remarked with an airy wave of her hand. “How else am I supposed to talk to our ambassadors if I can’t call them?”

 Chuckling, Abel settled in to wait for his sister to answer the phone, and he flipped through his notes as the line rang.

 “Where do I need to pick up the bodies?” came the immediate question the second the phone was answered, and Abel thought Seth sounded far too cheerful at such a prospect.

 “Nothing like that, Seth,” chuckled Abel before sobering. “I have a long term mission in Albion’s Magical Community that will require me to move among the upper crust. As I can’t go in as a priest of the Vatican, I was thinking perhaps of posing as a noble from the Empire.”

 “As Empress Augusta Vradica, I can do you one better and offer you a position that I created just for you when I built my Empire,” remarked Seth, her voice serious, and Abel could almost imagine her behind her desk in the Imperial Palace, paperworks scattered across the surface as she sat sideways in her chair, one leg thrown over the arm as she played with the phone cord in one hand.

 “And what position would that be?” He asked, curious to know what position she had in mind for him. When he had briefly gone to the Empire as an emissary of the Vatican, Seth hadn’t mentioned creating any position just for him, but then they hadn’t had much of a chance to talk in between stopping assassination attempts.

 “Imperial Crown Prince.”

 Abel huffed softly and shook his head. “And how will your people react to suddenly having someone claiming to be your crown Prince?”

 “I’ve been spreading rumors for years that the Crown Prince has been helping the Empire in various capacities as well as occasionally having one of my Most Trustworthy with your build making an occasional appearance in a veil so no one would question the sudden appearance of a Crown Prince.” Seth sounded quite smug about the entire thing, and he knew that she had out maneuvered him on this particular topic. Not that he honestly wanted to fight her on this since instead of having to seek out the Pureblood families, they’d come flocking to him in an effort to win his favor and his ear.

 “Alright, I accept,” Abel said, shaking his head and rolling his pale blue eyes at Caterina’s curious look. She gave a soft chuckle before returning her attention to her paperwork. “How soon can you get me what I need?”

 “I can get the various trappings and wardrobe to Sofitel St. James Hotel,” Seth stated, and Abel blinked in surprise at the name of one of the most prestigious hotels in Londinium. “I’ll have one of the Royal Suites booked for you and two others. Who is going to be your backup on this mission?”

 “I hadn’t quite gotten that far yet, but I do plan on having at least two people from the Vatican as backup,” Abel promised, his voice earnest as he remembered their promise to each other after one too many missions that went pear shaped, and they were left without any backup. “I’m also going to contact someone trustworthy in the DMLE for magical backup as well.”

 “Good. I’d hate to raize Albion’s Magical Community because something happened to you.”

 If it was anyone else, Abel would have laughed at the joke, but this was Seth Nightlord, the Empress Augusta Vradica. She had the power and the ability to do such a thing if she put her mind to it. A warmth filled him at the thought of his adopted sister destroying a community on his behalf. “I will send you letters at least once a week, and if I get in trouble, you’ll be the second to know. The first will be my backup.”

 Seth’s laughter echoed over the line and a few minutes later, Abel hung up. He huffed in surprise and looked at Caterina, feeling a bit dazed. “She’s making me the Imperial Crown Prince, and if anything happens to me, Albion’s magical community will pay.”

 Caterina laughed and shook her head. “Only you would find yourself a Crown Prince without trying,” she teased. “From priest to prince. That’s quite a promotion.”

 “That will definitely make my job easier and a bit more difficult,” sighed Abel with a mournful look. “Wearing a veil all the time can’t be easy.”

 Laughter rang out through the office, and Abel chuckled, feeling like his job was done now that Caterina was laughing. He pushed the phone back across her desk to its former position before he turned to face her. “Now, let’s figure out who is going to be my backup…”


	2. Narcissa Malfoy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer starts off interesting at the Malfoy household.

Meals at most Pureblood homes involved quiet discussions between the adults while the children ate silently before being dismissed for the day. Breakfasts at the Malfoy Manner, however, were a great deal different, because they encouraged Draco to join in on the conversations between the Malfoys and their permanent guest, Severus Snape. Talking was punctuated by soft laughter as they discussed their plans for the day and what long term projects they might have if a previous one was finished the day before. It was the most lively meal of the day, with lunch during the summer often being grabbed on the go and dinner a more relaxed atmosphere to wind down from the day’s excitement in preparation for lazy evenings.

 “Aside from helping Severus in the potion lab, is there anything else you wish to do, Draco?” Inquired Narcissa, spreading butter on her toast. It was the third day after Hogwarts had let out for the summer, and the previous two had been taken up by Draco settling back into his room at the manor and completing his summer homework. Now was the time to turn attentions to summer projects and fun. Helping Severus in the manor’s potion lab was something Draco did every summer, enjoying the chance to perfect his own potion making while assisting Severus with whatever he was creating. Narcissa occasionally joined them as she was a dab hand at her own potions, leaning more towards assisting in one’s comforts instead of the earth shattering breakthroughs that Severus was an expert at.

 “With your permission, Mother, I was thinking of creating a book of potions and spells for assisting in one’s appearance and including some of your own creations in it,” Draco admitted, finishing his tea. “There are some at school who could only benefit from the knowledge.”

 Narcissa raised a curious brow at that declaration, but she knew Draco had a thing about people who didn’t seem to care about their appearances. It had been drilled into him from an early age that a First Impression could make or break a relationship, be it business or friends, and there was no chance for a Second Impression once the damage was done. It was one thing to not care about the latest fashions due to a lack of money in one’s life, but it was something completely different to dress sloppily and ignore hygiene. “Which ones were you thinking of including?”

 A thoughtful look crossed Draco’s face as he finished his current bite of food. “Your improved blemish remover, the wrinkle remover, and the hair potions. I know two off the top of my head who could use some assistance in taming their hair.”

 “Is it correct to assume you refer to Miss Granger and Duke Potter?” Severus inquired with a small twitch of the potion’s journal he was reading. As he had already finished his meal, Narcissa did not mind his attention to his magazine. One of her standing rules at the breakfast table was “Food First”.

 “Indeed,” Draco stated, stabbing at a sausage violently with a confused frown on his face. “Granger, I can understand not knowing some of the more common charms for taming that bushy mane of hers, Muggleborn that she is, but she’s roommates with Kumaari Patil who is rather devoted to her looks. It is a surprise that Granger hasn’t been taken under the girl’s wing already, but perhaps her devotion to learning everything she can has pushed her roommates away.’ Shaking his head, he sat back in his chair with his frown deepening. “Potter, on the other hand, is a Duke and should know about dressing for one’s station. Yet, the clothes he wears are not even fit for the dustbin or house elves doing gardening, and they are at least three times too big for him. It’s as if he doesn’t care at all about how he looks.”

 A small frown crossed Narcissa’s face at that information. Why would Harry Potter, Duke of the Ancient and Noble Houses of Gryffindor and Potter, dress like a street urchin without a Knut to his name? He had _more_ than enough Galleons in his Trust Vault to dress according to his station as a duke, not counting what was in his Family Vaults. Perhaps, as he was also her cousin’s godson, she should investigate his circumstances to ensure that he wasn’t being robbed or was unable to purchase what he required for some reason.

 “A good idea but the boy will be taken care of, Narcissa Rosales Black-Malfoy,” drawled an unexpected female voice laced with power and with the sort of arrogance of one who expected to be listened to. Narcissa’s head whipped around to stare a the woman who was suddenly standing in their dining room even as her mind whirled at the possibilities on how this person got into their house. The woman had long red hair in a riot of curls and waves, and she was dressed in leather and chain armor with a Celtic tartan wrapped around her shoulders. A gold torq encircled a slender throat and every inch of her visible skin was covered in blue woad, but the most telling about her was the raven feathers woven into her hair.

 “My Lady Morrigan,” breathed Narcissa, sliding out of her chair to kneel before the goddess. “I am blessed and honored with your attention.” While she was a follower of The Morrigan and kept a small shrine to her that she prayed at, Narcissa could count the number of times the goddess had directly interfered in her life and still have  most of a hand left over. However, this was most certainly the first time The Morrigan had ever appeared before her to directly interfere in her life.

 There was a whisper of movement from her family, but Narcissa didn’t raise her head to acknowledge their actions. There was an amused chuckle before the sound of a chair being pulled out caused her to look at the end of the dining table to find the chair there was now occupied by the goddess.

 “I apologize for barging in on you during your morning meal, but I have much to talk about with you,” The Morrigan stated. “Please, don’t stand on ceremony and enjoy your morning meals.”

 Narcissa rose to her feet and looked at The Morrigan as she resumed her own seat. There was a touch of amusement in those black eyes, so similar to the ravens that were her heralds, but there was also a burning fury. “May I offer you some breakfast, Lady Morrigan?”

 “My thanks for the offer, but this is not a social call,” The Morrigan stated, lacing her fingers across her stomach as she sat back in the chair. Narcissa inclined her head and returned to her own half-finished meal even as she directed her attention to The Morrigan.

 “How may we be of service, Lady Morrigan?” Lucius asked, his voice composed and polite as if he was speaking with a political opponent instead of a goddess who was known for her ferocity on the battlefield.

 The Morrigan hummed and her dark eyes flicked between Lucius and Severus before narrowing in consideration. “I have a Raven coming to take care of a problem that the Dark Mother has found insulting. Especially since She gave your world a little over a decade to solve it, but as you have proceeded to ignore it instead, my Raven will solve it for you.”

 Narcissa felt a ball of excitement and nervousness form in her stomach. She knew the rumor of Morrigan’s Ravens, special followers who worked Her Will on the Mortal Plane and who could be quite vicious when crossed. But what problem had the Wizarding World ignored for a decade that would involve Cailleach?

 “Excuse me for asking, Lady Morrigan, but what problem?” Draco asked, his voice refreshingly innocent as he asked the very question that was hovering on the lips of the adults. “What could be so horrible that the Dark Mother can’t correct it herself?”

 An amused smile curled The Morrigan’s lips as she turned her attention to the young boy. “You’re an intelligent young man, Draco. I’m sure you can figure it out if you take a few minutes.”

 Draco hummed, his eyes going unfocused as he thought. “Well, the Dark Mother rules over Death and Winter even as she herds the deer and creates mountains. However, this is something that happened ten years ago. There were no deer herds that suddenly vanished nor mountains that disappeared so it has to be something involving either winter or the death of someone. Since we have experienced winter for the last ten years, by process of elimination, it must be someone’s death, or rather, someone who didn’t die when they should have.”

 Applause broke out, but it didn’t come from The Morrigan. Narcissa’s eyes went to the extremely handsome young man who was now leaning against the back of The Morrigan’s chair, an arrogant tilt to his head, and a cold sweat appeared on Narcissa’s brow. It was impossible to not recognize the new arrival even though he wore no trappings of any sort beyond a well cut suit.

 “You have quite the intelligent son there, my lady,” announced Lucifer Morningstar, his voice soothing her nerves somewhat before his golden eyes hardened as he looked at Lucius and Severus. “Unlike two of my _sworn_ followers who decided to allow themselves to be branded as slaves to a bastard.”

 “To be fair, my lord, Lucius was half dead when his father dragged him before the Dark Lord to be marked,” Severus stated, his voice calm, and Narcissa watched him meet the angry gaze with all the calmness of a Slytherin. “I confess I did go willingly, but it was to protect Lucius from those that would see him dead or dishonored and broken.”

 “Then we have a problem,” drawled The Morrigan, her eyes glittering with some unknown emotion. “My Raven won’t work with slaves, especially slaves of the very man who will be delivered to the Dark Mother relatively soon, and if those slaves aren’t smart enough to get their status revoked, they’ll be joining him as an escort.”

 “Some of us tried to remove the Dark Mark.” The confession slipped out of Narcissa before she could stop it, and she blinked as she realized she was gripping her fork hard enough to bend it if she wasn’t careful. Oh, Great Merlin and Morgana! They had known that the Dark Lord had somehow managed to escape death, but after Quirrell last year, they had believed that he was a wrath or even a poltergeist. None of them had bothered looking for the Dark Lord, because any such actions would have brought the attention of both the Dark Lord and the Ministry down on them. Many among those in the Wizengamot would love to see the Malfoy family homeless, penniless, and destitute, no matter how skilled of a politician Lucius was nor how revered Severus was as a Potion Master.

 She looked at The Morrigan and Lucifer with desperate eyes. “My coven has been researching the Dark Mark and have attempted to remove it, but it is beyond our understanding. One train of thought is because none of us are Parseltongues, we are unable to remove it.”

 “Lord Lucifer, what price would you ask to remove the Dark Mark from my father and godfather?” Narcissa’s gaze, now horrified, turned to look at Draco who was looking at Lucifer with wariness but also determination.

 Lucifer raised a brow as he met Draco’s eyes. “What makes you so sure I _can_ remove such a thing from them?” He inquired before smirking. “And what would you be prepared to pay?”

 “For one thing, you are their patron, and as you are often associated with snakes, it would be foolish to think you could not somehow communicate with them, my lord,” Draco pointed out. “Besides, if you cannot, then you cannot, but have you even tried?”

 That earned him laughs from both deities before Lucifer grinned at Draco, his smile full of teeth. “Very astute, but what do you offer in exchange? From what I saw of your school year, you were not being very cunning with many of your actions.”

 “That’s because I’m the Obvious Slytherin of the house,” Draco stated with a slight shrug. “I make a spectacle of myself and draw everyone’s eye while the others go quietly about their business.” He licked his lips, a nervous gesture that he had picked up from her. “As for what I can offer, I am among the top potion students at school, I have been tutored for as long as I can remember to inherit the Marquise of Malfoy estate, and I currently have not pledged myself to any deity.”

 “All very interesting,” mused Lucifer before glancing at The Morrigan who gave him a look of indifference before he nodded. “Very well. I will remove their slave brands, Young Draco, and there will be a price to pay.” Narcissa held her breath, wondering what Lucifer Morningstar would demand for such a favor. “However, you will not be paying such a price.”

 Two scrolls suddenly appeared before Lucius and Severus, tied with ribbons that shimmered like fire. “The two whom I will be reclaiming will,” Lucifer announced, straightening and tugging the sleeves of his jacket straight. “These are a list of tasks you will accomplish before you die in exchange for your slave brands being removed. This is not open for negotiations.”

 “And if we are unable to accomplish them, my lord?” asked Severus, his voice hoarse with shock as he stared at scroll as if it was a viper about to strike. “What happens then?”

 “Then whatever you don’t get done will be passed on to your children and grandchildren while you remain as ghosts here until all the tasks are done, no matter how long it takes,” replied Lucifer. “When you have reached your decision, you know how to call me.” With that, a burst of flames swirled up around him, and he was gone.

 Narcissa slumped in her chair, feeling drained from that, and she wondered how she was going to get through the rest of The Morrigan’s visit without needing a Pepperup Potion or a very strong drink. Pushing her now cold plate away from her, Narcissa poured herself a cup of tea and waited for whatever declaration The Morrigan had for their family since she was still there.

 “As for me, I want you to help my Raven in the complete destruction of the one known as Voldemort and have him delivered into the Dark Mother’s hands,” The Morrigan stated, rising to her feet as well.

 “How will we know your Raven?” Asked Narcissa, her mind latching onto the one detail that it could at the moment. How many more shocks were going to happen today?

 The Morrigan’s smirk was sharp as a raven’s beak. “He will be helping Young Duke Potter, and he’ll be in a position of power,” she remarked before vanishing in a swirl of shadows.

 As the last wisps vanished, Narcissa slumped in her chair and buried her face in her hands as she took deep, calming breaths to steady her nerves. Small arms wrapped around her, and she shifted just enough to clutch Draco to her, uncaring at how rumpled such an action would make both of them. After several minutes, she managed to get herself under control and raised her head to look at Draco. “How could you offer yourself like that to Lucifer?”

 “Because none of you were speaking up to ask him, Mother,” Draco pointed out as if it was the most simple thing in the world. “Plus, while he may be angry at Father and Uncle Sev, he has no grudge against us, and I thought if I could surprise him by asking, he might be more lenient than to refuse outright.” He smirked a her, and he looked so much like Lucius at that moment that it startled a laugh out of her. “Besides, I’m the Obvious Slytherin. I’m used to making myself the target for others to think and plan. A bit Gryffindorish I know, but it has worked so far and will continue to do so until Hogwarts falls to dust.”

 “So very true, but next time, please warn us when you have to use those particular skills, my son,” sighed Lucius, looking up from the scroll he was reading. “I nearly had a heart attack when you started bargaining with Lord Lucifer.”

 Draco giggled before looking at the adults. “May I be excused? I’d like to get started on that book for the others right away.”

 Narcissa leaned forward and kissed his forehead. “Go, and we will see you at dinner if not sooner.”

 Nodding, Draco turned and hurried out of the room, leaving the three adults alone at the table. Narcissa cleared her throat slightly, and she picked up her teacup, glad to see that her hand wasn’t shaking. “What sort of tasks does Lord Lucifer ask of you in exchange for the removal of your marks?”

 “Some are political but all are challenging the set way of life,” mused Lucius, raising a brow as he read a bit farther in his list. “It will definitely shake up the status quo.”

 She hummed as a thought occurred to her. “It will get you out of the herd mentality that you have been comfortably hiding in, Husband,” she remarked, starting to feel much more on an even mental footing now that she had a puzzle to occupy her mind with. “And you, Severus?”

 “The first task he has set for me is to kill Greyback as painfully as possible before offering up his soul to Lord Lucifer,” remarked Severus, a faint line between his brows that indicated he was already trying to figure out the best way to achieve such a thing.

 That got a nod from Narcissa. “Do not harm little children,” she quoted. “Some of Greyback’s favorite prey if I remember the beast correctly.” Apparently Lucifer wished to remind her husband and their lover of the basic tenants he followed. A small smirk curled her lips as she sat back in her chair, a queen once more in her home. “Of course, he never stated that you had to work alone when accomplishing your tasks. Merely that you had to complete them.”

 As Lucius and Severus looked at her in shock, she rose to her feet and swept out of the dining room. It wouldn’t do to have them forget that they _are_ Slytherin, and as the ruler of the bedroom and unofficial head of the household, it was her duty to ensure they didn’t forget that little detail. If they did, she might find herself with a pair of Gryffindors in her bed and _that_ certainly wouldn’t do.


	3. Father Abel Nightroad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ball starts rolling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Speculation on child abuse

The murmurs and speculations started the second the veiled figure was escorted into the Ministry of Magic by Albus Dumbledore and two people in what looked like Muggle suits. The male of the pair was large, both in height and in shoulders, drawing almost all the attention to him as he walked in front of the veiled figure, and more than one speculated where the shoulder length blue hair had come from. The woman, while smaller in stature to both the man and the veiled figure, easily kept pace with them, an open journal in one hand as she occasionally scribbled something in it, and her short silver hair partially fell over her face, obscuring anyone’s attempt at getting a better look at her.

 Yet, despite how interesting the odd couple were, it was the veiled figure that drew the most speculations. Clothing that the more fashion conscious knew came straight from the latest season from the Methuselah Empire indicated where the person was from, but the politically savvy realized that this one was not just some random Methuselah noble visiting for whatever reason because there was only one family permitted to wear green in the Empire.

 It was the color reserved entirely for the Empress and her family, and this stranger’s clothes were edged with a mix of emerald green and sapphire blue. The face and head was hidden behind a white translucent veil that fell to almost their waist, and it was held in place by a mithril coronet set with sapphires and emeralds, sculpted to look like a peacock was sitting at the front with its long tail curled around the person’s head. Was the person truly a member of the Imperial family here in the Ministry? They were too tall to be the Empress, and besides, she never left the Empire without a full entourage of at _least_ fifty guards at all times _and_ the Imperial Investigator at her side, which the woman in the party most definitely was _not_!

 “This is the Public Entrance of the Ministry of Magic, Your Imperial Highness, where those that have business with one of the employees pass through the checkpoint,” Dumbledore was saying as the group moved through the rather crowded lobby, and Abel was quite grateful for Petros’ large bulk in front of him to keep the crowd of curious witches and wizards away. He was still getting use to the veil of his disguise and sometimes didn’t see someone if they stepped in front of him. He was very grateful that the wardrobe Seth had sent to him had clothes built along the lines of the cassock he was use to wearing minus the usual shoulder cape and _extremely_ grateful that the coronet was made out of mithril instead of some heavier metal, or he would have had a headache after five minutes of wearing it.

 “Normally, one would have to stand in line to get their wand checked, but only a fool would expect one of your position to wait out in the open,” Dumbledore continued, escorting Abel to the front of the line. “Do your companions have wands that would need to be checked, Your Imperial Highness?”

 “None of us carry wands,” Abel remarked, his voice soft yet still carrying to those closest to the party, causing more whispered speculations to break out. Petros and Paula were more magical than he was but for a different reason. When His Holiness, Pope Alessandro XVIII, had suggested the top two Inquisitors for Abel’s backup when he and Caterina had been having trouble figuring out who would help him, Abel had been skeptical. According to what he had heard and seen about the Inquisition, the whole department believed the only good Methuselah and magic user was one with their head on a pike. So he had been pleasantly surprised to discover that such an attitude was mostly because of Cardinal Francesco di Medici, and both Petros and Paula were protectors. The biggest surprise was when the two Inquisition let him in on their biggest secret.

 They were ancient dragons who could take on human form to hide among the humans and protect those very humans from dangers too powerful for themselves. Since Armageddon, the various dragon clans had taken some Methuselah under their wings for protection as well.

 Dumbledore nodded his head in understanding before pausing next to the desk long enough to get his wand checked. As soon as the guard handed back the wand, the four of them were moving deeper into the Ministry as Dumbledore kept up the role of Tour Guide, pointing out interesting things and facts as they slowly made their way to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Abel knew that Petros and Paula was taking note of anything that they might need in the future, including the way out.

 Upon reaching the DMLE, Dumbledore announced who they were to the secretary before they waited to be admitted into Director Bone’s office which only took a few moments. When they entered the room, Abel was surprised to find that Amelia Bones was standing behind her desk with her wand in her hand and suspicion in her face.

 “Headmaster Dumbledore, are you fully aware of the identities of your guests?” Inquired Bones, and Abel realized that the wand wasn’t pointing towards him but towards Petros who was standing off to his left.

 Dumbledore held up his hands in a calming gesture. “Madam Bones, if we may have a few minutes of your time, I promise we will explain what is going on,” he soothed, but from the look on her face, she didn’t seem to be willing to listen.

 “Director Bones, if we may have your Oath that secrets discussed in this office will not be mentioned beyond these four walls without expressed permission, your questions will be answered,” Abel remarked, pulling two wallets out of his pocket and placing them on her desk, open to reveal both the seal of the Vatican’s Department of Foreign Affairs and the Imperial crest in mithril and emeralds.

 Her eyes widened at the sight of those two wallets before she gave the requested Oath. Nodding once, Abel lifted the veil to flip it back over his head. “My name is Abel Nightroad, a priest with the Department of Foreign Affairs. Empress Augusta Vradica has been gracious enough to allow me to use the position as Imperial Crown Prince with all the power and responsibilities it provides for my mission here in Albion,” he explained, deciding that it would just be easier to lay everything on the table so to speak since Bones had recognized Petros at least. “Brother Petros and Sister Paula agreed to accompany me as my backup, and they have no plans, now or in the immediate future, to persecute anyone in Albion’s magical community for the simple fact of being magical.”

 “We only would attack one who is attacking us first,” Petros stated, bowing to Bones. “The Inquisition has no interest in any of your citizens at this time.”

 “That doesn’t make me feel better as it means that your eyes could turn to anyone in the Magical Community at any time in the future,” Bones pointed out.

 Abel inclined his head even as he collected the wallets and replaced them in his pocket. “The main reason why we are here is because we have been informed of the possibility of the one known as Voldemort returning in wraith form.”

 Bones sighed and rolled her eyes. “The Ministry’s official stance on the death of Quirinus Quirrell is that he died in an experiment that backlashed against him, and You KNow Who has been dead for a decade.”

 “And the fact that there is a witness to both the late Quirrell’s demise and the confession of the wraith?” Countered Abel, his voice mild. “Headmaster Dumbledore has sworn that there is a witness, and he has no reason to lie about such a thing. There is no political, personal, or financial gain at declaring that the one who started the Blood War is back.”

 “Minister Fudge never mentioned a witness,” mused Bones, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “Why would he do such a thing? And who is this witness?”

 Abel shrugged a shoulder. “Why, I cannot say, but who is the very person who defeated him last time. Duke Harry James Potter.” He sighed and gestured to the chair across from her desk, silently asking permission to sit, and she inclined her head. Sitting down, he crossed his legs as he leaned back. “Which brings me to the second reason we are here. While none from the Magical World can interfere directly with Duke Potter’s home life due to the Oath Headmaster Dumbledore swore to his guardians, the three of us are not of the Magical World and can interfere should it be necessary.”

 Bones hummed, a thoughtful look on her face. “My niece, Susan, attends Hogwarts with Duke Potter but they are in separate houses so she does not get a chance to interact with him,” she remarked. “However, she has mentioned that he does not act as a Duke should or young Master Malfoy would not have attempted the insults that he has during the year.”

 “That will be one of the things we will be investigating,” Abel said, inclining his head. “However, if it is to the young man’s advantage to remove him from his current residence, do you have the forms to grant temporary custody of him to a neutral third party?” He offered a small smile. “I can promise that I would only have his best interests in mind and not remove him permanently from Albion until after he has completed his schooling. As he would also be a fosterling of the Imperial Crown Prince, he would be taught his station in life as well as the politics that surround him so he will be well educated to keep any from taking advantage of his ignorance.”

 “I will trust you now, but I hope you will tell me how you will continue as the Imperial Crown Prince once this wraith is taken care of,” Bones said, pulling out a folder and filling out a piece of paper before she held it out to him. He took it and handed it to Paula for safe keeping. “I will assign some of my Aurors to act as rotating guards and to assist you in your mission to investigate the wraith.”

 “If they could also bring all the files your department has on any of the Death Eaters, both those accused and convicted, it may help us get a better idea for his actions,” Abel murmured before he pulled a card out of his pocket. “This is where we’re staying so you can send the information there. We do have plans to move into a wizarding hotel eventually, but it is expected of us to stay there at the moment.”

 “It may take me a few days to get all the files, but what excuse should I give if the Minister tries to stop me?” Asked Bones, taking the card and slipping it into her own pocket.

 Abel grinned as he rose to his feet. “Inform the Minister that there have been a few incidents in the Empire that match what the Death Eaters were known for, and we are simply whittling down the possible suspects.”

 A look of understanding spread across the director’s face as Abel dropped the veil over his face once more and after a polite bow to her, the four of them left the office. Standing in the hallway apparently waiting for them was a portly looking man in a bottle green suit and holding a lime green bowler in his hands. His face lit up at the sight of them, and he approached them, holding out a hand.

 “Your Imperial Highness, it is a _pleasure_ to meet you,” the man stated. “I had heard you were in the building and wanted to meet with you immediately, but you were in a meeting with Director Bones.”

 It was obvious that he was fishing for information, but Abel was not going to give him what he wanted. Instead, Dumbledore stepped forward to intercept the man before he could actually get close enough to Abel to touch him. “Minister Fudge, I was not expecting to see you out here,” the old wizard said before he gestured towards Abel. “Minister, it is my delight to introduce His Imperial Highness, Crown Prince Alexi Vradica. Your Imperial Highness, this is Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic.”

 “Minister,” Abel said, inclining his head before he turned to Dumbledore. There was honestly no polite way for Abel to get out of meeting with the Minister, but there was no reason for Dumbledore to be trapped in the meeting too. “Headmaster Dumbledore, I thank you for escorting me to my meeting, but I believe I have taken up enough of your time. I know you are a very busy man, but feel free to stop by for tea sometime this week.”

 “Of course, my boy, and if you need anything at all, do not hesitate to contact me,” Dumbledore said with a polite bow before he nodded at Fudge with a murmured “Minister” before he swept off down the hallways.

 “If I could beg a few minutes of your time, sir, I would like to talk with you about your visit to our community,” stated the Minister.

Abel turned his head slightly to Paula who pulled out her journal and opened it. “You have tea this afternoon with Queen Bridget and Princess Esther to discuss the Ghetto but it is possible to squeeze a quick meeting in if you wish.”

 The man smiled and gestured down the hall. “If you will accompany me to my office, we can discuss a few things.”

 “What things do you wish to discuss?” Inquired Abel, not moving even as Fudge took a few steps down the hallway. While he may not like to play politics, he knew that if he were to follow Fudge without questioning the man, he would be giving the man the advantage every time they meet. Better to establish the fact that Fudge could not boss around the Imperial Crown Prince or the petty man will take full advantage of that fact.

 “Well your business in our community so I may best be able to help you for starters,” sputtered Fudge, his eyes wide in surprise as if no one had bothered to question him before.

 “You are an important and busy man, Minister,” Abel stated, folding his hands before him. “I am sure there is some employee of the Ministry who would be able to handle my small business here in your country.”

 “What about your security? If anything were to happen to you while you were a guest here, it would be disastrous, sir,” countered Fudge, and to Abel the man seemed to be scrambling for some reason to meet with the Imperial Crown Prince in private.

 “Director Bones  has already taken care of that, Minister,” Petros rumbled, folding his arms across his chest. “And I am in charge of His Imperial Highness’ security. Any such arrangements must be verified by me before being put into practice.”

 Abel looked briefly at Paula who nodded and pulled out a card from her journal. “The Imperial Crown Prince has no further time today, but should you wish to discuss something of importance with him, here is where he is staying for you to arrange an appointment.”

 Fudge took the card with a stunned sort of expression and they were down the hall and out of sight before the man had recovered enough to think of some excuse to keep them longer. It took them very little time to make their way out of the Ministry and up to Whitehall where a car was waiting for them. Petros opened the dark umbrella as Abel quickly moved to the car, and Paula slid into the backseat with him. Petros moved around to claim the driver’s seat, nodding to the guard who had been left with the car.

 “Do I truly have tea with the Royal Family this afternoon?” Abel asked as Petros pulled out onto the street. He wanted to head back to the hotel and figure out the next step in what he was going to do while they waited for those files.

 “No, but you do have time for tea with the Dursley family,” countered Paula with a small smirk. “I sent out an invitation for the entire family to join you for tea as you wished to meet with them today. The general attitude that I was able to get from the neighborhood is that the Dursleys can do no wrong, and they are saints for taking in their delinquent of a nephew. Of course, a few more quiet rumors are Mrs. Dursley is the neighborhood gossip, always trying to one up her neighbors in everything while being part of several clubs, Mr. Dursley has a temper as a few have heard him bellowing for one reason or another, and the son, Dudley, is a bully with a gang of thugs who terrorize the smaller children but their victims are too afraid of them to speak out.”

 Abel frowned as he sat back and tapped his fingers against his lips. “The odds of them actually bringing along Duke Potter?”

 “If they’re passing him off as a juvenile delinquent, they’ll probably leave him at their house,” Paula said, shaking her head with a frown. “Better to ignore the fact he exists than acknowledge their family is not perfect.”

 “All right,” Abel said, looking at her through the veil. “Here’s the plan. If they show up without the duke, we’ll ask them about him, emphasizing that the _whole_ family was asked for. If they still refuse to acknowledge him as part of the family, Petros will go and fetch him and his belonging from the house. He has the mirror from Dumbledore that he can give to Duke Potter to get his cooperation since we are strangers to him. He will also take note of his appearance and environment because if they are painting him with a bad brush, they will possibly do what they can to keep him confined.”

 Petros nodded from the front seat. “Basic child abuse investigation then,” he stated, pulling into the underground garage of the hotel. “I’ll make sure to document everything I find.”

 “I’ll order a full tea from Room Service to be delivered when they arrive,” Paula said, climbing out of the car. “You go get ready for them.”

 Huffed, Abel shook his head. “Whomever thought being royalty was easy never had to deal with the day to day responsibilities of the title,” he grumbled as they made their way up to the lobby.

 Once they stepped into the public eye, they no longer showed the easy camaraderie but had become employer and employees once more. Abel didn’t think he would ever be comfortable with such an arrangement because he prefered to be open friends with people instead of hiding his friendship behind closed doors. Upon reaching their suite, Petros stopped to speak to the two guards assigned to their security from Queen Bridget that were standing on either side of the door as Paula and Abel entered the suite. Abel figured he was informing them of the expected guests, but he was shooed towards the master bedroom by Paula to get ready.

 The first thing he changed was the veil, shortening it to fall just below his nose so he would be able to eat and drink without worrying about accidentally chewing on the cloth. Fake fangs were slipped onto his teeth, designed to allow him to eat and drink without losing them, and while he could possibly use his own fangs instead, it was harder to maintain that low level of a shift for extended periods of time. The gloves were left behind on the bed, and he unpinned his hair from the braided bun it had been in to let it fall down his back once more. Seth may be able to hide her hair under that hat of hers, but then she didn’t have hair to her hips either.

 “Apparently the Dursleys are here already without Duke Potter,” Paula drawled, emerging from the slightly smaller bedroom that she shared with Petros. She had exchanged the sensible boots and pants for a professional knee length skirt and heels that matched her short jacket. “They’re on the way up after announcing rather loudly in the lobby that they did not wish to be late to their tea at the request of the Imperial Crown Prince.”

 Abel shook his head. “Subtle aren’t they?” He drawled before moving over to stand near the window with his back to the door and clasped his hands behind him, the perfect picture of an idle royal awaiting his guests. “I think, depending on how they react to both of you, we may change it so you go to collect His Grace.”

 Paula nodded in understanding. “If Mr. Dursley starts to bluster, it might be a better idea to have Petros backing you,” she stated before throwing him a teasing smirk. “Wouldn’t want you to get those fine clothes dirty after all.”

 That got a small chuckle from Abel as Petros entered the room just as there was a knock on the door. Petros smirked as he moved to one side of the room but still between Abel and the door as Paula went to let their guests in. The windows of the suite were specially tinted to prevent any Methuselah who rented the suite from burning in the sun, and it also gave Abel a perfect mirror to observe his guests as they entered the room.

 The large man was wearing a suit that looked brand new, and Abel figured he probably kept it in the closet for important events such as corporate dinners and meetings as the jacket buttons had the faintest wrinkle around them, indicating an increase in weight. The boy looked to be over two hundred pounds in weight already, and from the shortness in his pant legs and jacket sleeves, he was wearing an older suit. The woman, however, had donned a shimmering bright gold evening gown and wore jewelry that sparkled in the light - cocktail ring, earrings, cuff, and necklace - as if she was going to the theater instead of tea.

 “Vernon and Petunia Dursley, and their son, Dudley,” Paula announced as she escorted them towards Abel, and he turned away from the window to look at them. Petunia had dropped into a clumsy curtsey that left her tottering in her stiletto heels while Vernon gave an awkward bow. Dudley was looking around the room, gawking, and wasn’t paying any attention.

 “It s a pleasure to meet you, but where is your nephew?” Abel inquired in a soft voice. “I confess that I was hoping to meet your _entire_ family, Mr. Dursley.”

 “The boy’s at home,” stuttered Vernon after a few moments, and Abel could see the slight sheen of sweat on his forehead. So, he hadn’t been expecting to be called out on where Duke Potter was, and Abel’s opinion of these people sank even lower. “Just a summer cold he picked up from his classmates, but he didn’t want to spread it to you, Your Imperial Highness.”

 “You believe my constitution is that compromised that a simple summer cold would inconvenience me, Mr. Dursley?” Inquired Abel, but before Vernon could come up with a good excuse, there was another knock on the door. “Ah, our tea has arrived. Come, we shall talk more while enjoying the pleasant repast of your country.”

 He casually walked over to the sitting area and claimed the single chair, leaving the couch for the family as Paula directed the server to place the tea service on the coffee table between Abel and the family before pouring tea for all of them, quietly asking the Dursleys how they wanted their tea. Abel managed to suppress a smile as she bent over, causing her skirt to ride up a bit to show off her long legs, and Vernon and Dudley were both staring at her while Petunia was trying to make eyes at Abel. Small plates of finger cakes were passed out by Paula before she sat in the seat next to Abel’s, her notebook and pen out to take any notes needed.

 “I admit we were surprised to receive an invitation to tea with you, sir,” Petunia simpered before sipping her tea, and Abel was happy that she didn’t slurp it, unlike Dudley who was trying to cram as many little cakes in his mouth as he possibly could without choking. “But we are delighted and honored to be allowed in your presence.”

 Apparently, the Dursleys had no idea the proper etiquette for tea because they were breaking them left and right since they walked in the door. “And yet, you did not bring your nephew with you.”

 “The boy is sick,” protested Vernon, looking at Abel with slightly wide eyes. “We thought it best to leave him at home to recover.”

 “A simple summer cold will not bother me,” stated Abel before looking over at Petros. “You will give my man your house key, and he will go fetch Mr. Potter to join us for tea.”

 For a few seconds Vernon started sputtering while Petunia turned a lovely pale that made the apparent diamonds (now that she was closer, Abel could easily see that they were completely fake) she was wearing stand out even more against her skin, and he wondered if Vernon was going to do the smart thing and follow directions. Then Vernon dug his keyring out of his pocket and removed a single key from it as Petros walked over and held out a large hand.

 “Why do you want the Freak?” Demanded Dudley as he reached forward to grab the plate of cakes and started stuffing his face again. “He’s better off locked up.”

 Vernon turned a lovely shade of red even as Petunia managed the impossible and lost even more color. Abel put his teacup aside along with his plate of cakes and folded his hands in his lap as he focused entirely on Dudley. Apparently the son didn’t have the same discretion as the parents when it came to Harry Potter.

 “Why don’t you tell me more about your cousin, Master Dudley,” purred Abel as Petros walked out the door with a firm step, and he took a slight pleasure that the older Dursleys flinched when the door closed behind Petros.


	4. Harry Potter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rescue and a threat.

It had been three weeks since Professor Quirrell had attacked him beneath Hogwarts, trying to get the Philosopher’s Stone and a week since he left his school to return to his relatives, and Harry desperately wanted to go back to Hogwarts. The first day back had been fun as he’d mutter under his breath in Latin, sometimes actually practicing the pronunciation of some of the spells he had learned while other times it was pure nonsense, just to watch his relatives scurry away from him as fast as possible.

 Unfortunately, the second day, Dudley and his gang had caught him outside and unaware, and he had gotten badly beaten up before he managed to escape to his small room. Of course, Dudley had bragged about how he had beaten up ‘the freak’ without anything happening to him, and that seemed to be what his aunt and uncle had been waiting for. Before Harry had fully realized what had happened, his door had locks installed on the outside, a small cat flap had been cut in the bottom, and Uncle Vernon had even gone through the trouble of installing bars on the outside of his window. All without setting foot inside the small bedroom.

 The one good thing about everything was that Harry had sent Hedwig to Ron along with his leftover money from the year to pay for owl food and treats for her so she couldn’t be a target of Uncle Vernon’s temper. She hadn’t wanted to go with the redhead, but Harry had begged her, wanting to keep his beautiful and magical owl safe from his family. Now, he was glad because the small can of cold, thin soup and single slice of stale bread that was only minutes away from growing mold was shoved through the flap once a day wouldn’t support both of them.

 The sound of a car pulling up to the house pulled Harry out of his thoughts, and he looked up from where he was sitting on his bed, arms around his knees and back to the wall. He wondered if it was one of Aunt Petunia’s many club members coming to gossip which was rather silly of them considering he had heard Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley leave a couple hours ago after they had briefly let him out to use the bathroom for the day. He was sure they had told the entire neighborhood how much of a troublemaker he was to justify the bars on the window, and whenever he went out, if he was allowed, he’d have to endure the looks and whispers behind his back. Just once, he’d like for an adult to believe his side of the story and actually _listen_ to him when he had something to say instead of just brush him off with a pat on the head like his professors at Hogwarts had done.

 Sighing, he let his head drop forward onto his knees as the bitter disappointment from the Wizarding World in general and the Hogwarts professors in particular failed him again. Okay, he couldn’t lump _all_ the professors in one unhelpful category as he and his friends had only gone to Professor McGonagall about the theft of the stone, but she was their Head of House and the Deputy Headmistress. Yet, she had brushed their worries aside as if they were trying to stir up trouble just to cause trouble. Maybe they should have gone to one of the other professors, but at the time, they were desperate, wanting to stop the bad guy from getting the stone.

 His head came up again at the sound of the front door opening and closing, and he wondered if his family was back. It was possible because he didn’t know where they had been going, but the footsteps coming up the stairs were far too light for Uncle Vernon or Dudley’s heavy treads and there was no clattering of Aunt Petunia’s heels. He glanced around his room before picking up the chair that was half broken and moving to put his back against the wall by the door hinges. If the person wasn’t a friend and they came into his room, he’d bash them over the head and run to call the cops about the intruder.

 The footsteps moved down the hallway, and he heard the person opening the other doors before returning to stop before his door. There was a polite knock on the wood, and he flinched at the unexpected sound.

 “Mister Potter? Are you in there?” Asked a deep voice that sounded like the man actually cared, but Harry didn’t say anything as he gripped the chair tighter. There was a small sigh from the other side of the door. “Mister Potter, my name is Petros, and I have come to escort you to the Imperial Crown Prince. You do not know me, but I have something to help ease your discomfort.”

 Harry watched as the cat flap was moved by a small mirror, but he didn’t move to pick it up. How could a mirror help Harry believe this man didn’t mean him any harm? “If you call your headmaster’s name, he will appear in the mirror, and you can talk to him.”

 Using the chair, Harry carefully pulled the mirror farther into the room before picking it up. Backing up to the window, he took a deep breath and hoped that this wasn’t a trick of some sort. Of course, if it was, why would this Petros claim to be from the Empire when there were easier ways to trick him into trusting a stranger. “Professor Dumbledore.”

 Harry nearly dropped the mirror when Dumbledore’s face appeared in the mirror, and the old wizard smiled, his eyes not twinkling. “Ah, Harry. I hope you are well?”

 “Professor, there’s a man named Petros here who wants to take me to the Imperial Crown Prince,” Harry blurted out, his fingers curling around the edge of the mirror. “What do I do?”

 Dumbledore held up a calming hand, and Harry took a deep, calming breath, hoping that he would be able to help him. “I will be right there, my boy. I promise.”

 Harry nodded once, a tight, almost jerky action, and Dumbledore’s face faded from the mirror, leaving it a simple bit of glass. Before Harry could do or say anything, there was a burst of fire that caused him to yelp and stumble backward, his back hitting the wall. It took him a few seconds to realize that his room wasn’t on fire, and Dumbledore was standing there with a brilliant red bird on his shoulder.

 “Merlin, I’m glad to see you, Professor,” breathed Harry as he straightened up.

 “I am glad to see you are in good health, Harry,” murmured Dumbledore with a sad smile. “May I invite Petros in to join us? There is much to talk about, and I owe you some answers to questions that were asked three weeks ago.”

 Dumbledore was going to answer his questions? Harry narrowed his eyes slightly in suspicion. “Why now and not when I was in the Infirmary?”

 “I did not wish to deprive you of your childhood at that time,” Dumbledore stated before holding up a hand, silencing the protest that was rising up in Harry’s throat. “However, getting a chance to look back on little things through the year, I have come to the realization that things were not as I had hoped for you. I would like to make amends to you, and the answers to your questions is the first start.” He gestured towards the door out of the room. “Petros is an honorable man, and the Imperial Crown Prince has my unquestionable trust. May he join us?”

 The bird on Dumbledore’s shoulder spread its wings slightly and sang a few notes, making Harry feel better, and he looked around his room, suddenly embarrassed at the dinginess of it. He nodded to Dumbledore and retreated back to the wall when Dumbledore called for Petros to enter. The sound of the locks opening seemed to echo in the room before the door swung open to reveal a man nearly as big as Hagrid but dressed in a neat black suit. Surprisingly, his hair was blue, but the strangest thing was the camera in his hands.

 “Your Grace, it is a pleasure to officially meet you,” Petros said, bowing politely to Harry before he straightened and raised the camera. “A few more photographs I think, and it will be an iron-clad case against the Dursleys for child endangerment at the very least. Depending on what testimony Duke Potter wishes to give, it could be upgraded to child abuse.”

 “Wait, _Duke_ Potter? But I don’t have a title,” Harry protested. At least none aside from the Boy Who Live and Freak.

 All humor seemed to drain out of Dumbledore, leaving him looking very tired. “You are Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Potter and Gryffindor, and if I had known how your relatives would have treated you all those years ago, I never would have left you with them. No matter how desperate I was to ensure your safety.”

 “We should probably be leaving soon,” remarked Petros, looking between them. “The Crown Prince has probably extracted as much information as possible from the Dursleys if not outright terrorized them into signing over all guardianship rights of His Grace to him.”

 Harry’s jaw hit the floor at that. “Why would he do something like that? He doesn’t even _know_ me.” His head was reeling a bit from everything that had happened in just a few minutes. Dumbledore had apologized and wanted to answer his questions, and this large man wanted to take Harry to meet the Imperial Crown Prince who was apparently meeting with the Dursleys already who wanted to take him in?

 Dumbledore’s face was suddenly in front of him, and Harry felt the old wizard’s hands on his shoulders as Professor Dumbledore knelt in front of him. “Harry, I will go with you if you are nervous about meeting with Alexi Vradica, but he is an honorable person. I trust him, and I ask that you trust me.” He offered a small smile. “Even though I have not given you much of a reason to since I left you in the Infirmary.”

 The part of Harry that had survived the Dursleys for so long wanted a reason to trust the Headmaster, but the little boy deep inside that wanted a family to love and welcome him was a bit louder this time with the offer of someone actually wanting him. He looked into the headmaster’s blue eyes and managed a small smile, wanting to reassure Dumbledore. “I trust you, Professor.”

 “Thank you, but if at any time you don’t feel safe, use your magic to get away and then use the mirror to call me,” Dumbledore said, curling his hands around Harry’s that still held the mirror. “I will deal with any issues of underage magic that come about from that personally.” He smiled and stood up, gently patting Harry’s shoulder. “Now, let us see about packing your possessions so you do not have to worry about returning for them.”

 “I just have a few things, sir. My trunk is still packed from school,” Harry stated before glancing around. “Um, one minute.” Edging past Petros, Harry scampered down the stairs and ducked into his old cupboard. His old mattress was still in there along with the few possessions he had wedged into corners so they wouldn’t be taken by the Dursleys. He gently removed the drawings he had done in kindergarten from their hiding spot in a crack behind one of the stairs and put them on the mattress before he worked the small loose board behind one of the shelves open to reveal his special hiding hole. There were a lot of cobwebs, but the spiders never bothered him. In a way, they were some of his first friends in this little bedroom.

 Carefully brushing a few cobwebs aside, he reached into the brick sized hole and pulled out three slightly misshapen tin soldiers and a plastic knight with one arm missing. He placed them on the mattress before starting to work the board back into place only to growl when it got caught on something. It must have gotten wet and warped a bit. That had happened once before, and he hadn’t been able to get it fully back in until the wood had dried. He turned to sit down and screamed in surprise to find Petros crouched down in the doorway, an unreadable expression on his face.

 “You have a good hiding spot there, Your Grace,” Petros remarked, gesturing to the hole. “Do the spiders not bother you?” He offered a small smile that somehow made him seem less harsh. “I confess I do not mind then, but not when they decide to crawl over me in the middle of the night.”

 “They’re not so bad,” Harry admitted with a slight shrug of his shoulder before turning the wood over in his hands and finding a bit of it chipped. He picked the loose piece off and turned to replace the board, grinning when it slid right in with no trouble this time. He shifted the cleaning chemicals back to their original spots before gathering up his pictures and toys and scooting out of cupboard. “Okay, I have everything I need now.”

 Petros hummed thoughtfully and glanced at the mattress. “What was the purpose of the mattress?”

 “It’s where I slept until Hogwarts,” Harry said with another shrug before moving past Petros to head up to his room. He opened his trunk, tucked the pictures and toys in among his school uniforms, and closed the lid. “Okay, now I’m ready.”

“Do you wish me to accompany you?” Inquired Dumbledore as his bird gave a curious chirp that also sound a bit scolding, and Dumbledore looked at the bird. “Oh do forgive me. Fawkes, may I introduce His Grace, Duke Harry Potter of the Ancient and Noble Houses of Potter and Gryffindor. Harry, this is Fawkes the Phoenix.”

 Fawkes spread his wings wide and sang a bright and friendly song that caused Harry to laugh for the pure joy in that song. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Fawkes,” he said with a small bow. “I think I’ll be okay, Professor, but I’ll remember your offer if I think I’m in trouble.”

 “Then may I call on you in two days for tea and conversation?” Inquired Dumbledore before looking up as Petros entered the room. “If that will be all right with the Crown Prince.”

 Petros chuckled. “He will not begrudge your visit, but depending on what happens in the next few days, we may be at Le Chamber in Gilded Avenue.”

 Dumbledore inclined his head. “I will send a request for tea so I will know where to meet you,” he stated before smiling at Harry. “Be well, and I will see you in a few days, Harry.”

 Spreading his wings again, Fawkes trilled a few notes before the headmaster was enveloped in fire, and when it vanished, they were gone. Harry grinned at the idea of having a phoenix as a friend before he shook his head. Hedwig would have his hair for her nest if she thought he was trying to replace her, not that he ever would.

 He looked at Petros to find the man had lifted his trunk with apparent ease, and Harry scrambled over to grab Hedwig’s cage just to have something to carry. Petros gave him a small smile before leading him down the stairs and out of the house, and Harry followed, feeling strange to know that he never had to step foot back into Number 4 Privet Drive ever again.

 The car parked in the driveway looked very expensive, the black paint so shiny there wasn’t any dust on it, and that made the large, impressive crests on the side of the doors stand out even more. Harry could see every nearby yard had at least two people staring and whispering at them as Petros loaded his trunk into the car’s trunk.

 “Do you wish to ride in the back, Your Grace, or up front with me?” Inquired Petros, and Harry flinched slightly as the whispers started up a bit louder. “The Imperial Crown Prince is quite anxious to assume guardianship of you.”

 “Um, front please,” stammered Harry, his cheeks burning with embarrassment as Petros walked around the car to hold the front door open for him. Harry scrambled into the car and buckled up before slouching down, trying to hide from all of the stares as Petros backed the car up onto the street.

 “I apologize for making you uncomfortable, Your Grace, but from what we had learned about the neighborhood, I thought it prudent to announce who you were to give them something to think about,” Petros said as he easily maneuvered the car down the street. “After all, if the Imperial Crown Prince is taking you away from the Dursleys, you certainly can’t be the delinquent that they believe  you to be.”

 “Except some think that the only good Methuselah is a dead one,” Harry countered. “So it will be a _vampire_ getting a delinquent.”

 Petros hummed. “Would your relatives be among those?”

 “Definitely, but the idea of meeting _Royalty_ would outweigh the fact that they’re in a room with a Methuselah,” Harry stated with a shrug. “Especially if they can brag about it later while casually dropping his name.” Harry adopted a high voice and fluttered his lashes as he imitated his aunt. “Oh, the Imperial Crown Prince is _such_ a gentleman, and he asked us over to tea personally. Alexi this, Alexi that, and why just last week, Alexi…”

 That got a laugh from Petros as he turned onto another street and accelerated as they left Surrey. “From what I saw of them before I was sent to retrieve you, the two males were ogling Paula’s legs as she was pouring tea while Mrs. Dursley was trying to make eyes at Alexi.”

 Harry shrugged a shoulder, not knowing why his relatives acted as they did, and Petros didn’t ask any further. Instead the large man started talking about some of the adventures he had experienced during the course of his job, and while Harry had a feeling there was some things not being mentioned, he figured it was because of some top secret things. Soon, Harry was relaxing and sharing a few of his own stories about things that happened at Hogwarts, getting some good natured teasing from Petros about the trouble they had gotten into. Before he realized what was happening, Petros had pulled into a parking garage and turned off the engine.

 “Come on, young one, let’s get you up to the suite and see about getting you settled in for now,” remarked Petros with a gentle smile, and Harry got out of the car to follow the large man through a back door and up the stairs. He wondered why they weren’t going in the front door, but he didn’t mind the lack of stares from others in this very rich looking place. Petros smiled at him. “I thought it more prudent to take you in the back way until you have better clothes.”

 Harry managed a small smile for Petros before he shrank back at the sight of the two obviously armed men on either side of a door. Petros inclined his head to them as he opened the door, and Harry hid behind Petros as Dudley’s voice reached him. He was telling some story about him and his gang, and Harry flinched backwards as he started in on his favorite game of Harry Hunting.

 “Your Grace, it is a pleasure to meet you,” called out a gentle male voice, interrupting Dudley’s story, and Harry peeked out from behind Petros to find a tall figure with a veil mostly covering his face rising to his feet to and walking over to him. A small smile that just showed the tips of his fangs was on his face as he extended his hand to Harry. “I am Alexi Vradica. Please, will you join me for tea?”

 Harry started to emerge behind Petros with a small smile on his face because this was the person who wanted him, but he automatically flinched back behind the large man when Uncle Vernon surged to his feet, his face red with anger.

 “How _dare_ you insult us like this!” He bellowed, and Harry bit his lip to keep from making any noise. “We accepted your invitation to tea under the impression that you wanted to meet us, but instead you ignore us as you send your thug for the Freak! He has no title, and he never will! I demand satisfaction for this insulting meeting!”

 This was it, the moment when the prince decided Harry was too much trouble, and he was sent back to the Dursleys to appease them. He had a small moment of regret for the thought that he was done with them forever, before he closed his eyes to wait for the words that were going to send him back.

 “You demand?” Inquired the prince, his voice still soft, but it reminded Harry of Snape right before he started verbally flaying one of his classmates in Potions. Hesitantly, he opened his eyes and peeked out from behind Petros to find Uncle Vernon was still glaring at the prince while Aunt Petunia was quietly sobbing in her hands, looking like she was the victim here. Dudley was still stuffing his face, watching the confrontation with a look of excitement on his face, just waiting for his side to win.

 Vradica let his hand drop to his side as he slowly turned to face Uncle Vernon, his movements slow and deliberate. “Who are you to demand anything from me, _human_? I am Alexi Vradica, the Crown Prince of the Methuselah Empire, brother to Empress Augusta Vradica, the Eternal Mother, and one of the most well connected beings on the planet.”

 “You’re a puffed up _vampire_ who shouldn’t be around decent folk!” Bellowed Uncle Vernon, his face turning a shade of purple that Harry didn’t think was possible. “I will have satisfaction or you will be run out of Albion! I have friends in high places, including the Vatican’ Inquisition!”

 Harry was unable to hide that shiver of fear at that threat. Uncle Vernon often enjoyed telling him all about what the Inquisition would do to him since he was a freak, and when he got to Hogwarts, there were some quiet warnings about the Vatican’s armored warriors who would make a careless witch or wizard vanish, never to be seen again.

 Instead of cowering by that threat, Vradica actually laughed in Uncle Vernon’s face. “You have no power here, Vernon Dursley,” he said before pulling out a piece of paper and putting it on the coffee table in front of Aunt Petunia with a pen next to it. “Mrs. Dursley, I will offer you a deal. You sign this paper, turning over all responsibility and guardianship of your nephew, Harry James Potter, over to me, and I will forget the words that your husband uttered in his foolish attempt at trying to influence me. If you do not, then I will be forced to bring charges against your husband for slander and threatening a member of the Imperial Family.”

 “You can’t threaten us,” sneered Uncle Vernon, a smirk on his face. “It would be your word against ours.”

 “You are forgetting the two men stationed outside these rooms who were assigned to the Crown Prince’s security by the Queen of Albion Herself,” Petros pointed out, shifting just enough to put Harry’s trunk down. “They could be called as witnesses about your behavior as well as the words you spoke here. Plus there is the photographic evidence I took of Duke Potter’s living quarters at your home which could be used to bring you up on child endangerment charges.”

 “Child abuse,” corrected a woman in a business suit that was standing up from where she had been sitting. Harry hadn’t even noticed her with everything else that was going on, but there was a look on her face that made it seem like she wanted to see if the Dursleys would fly from the roof. She lifted a book in her hand. “Everything Dudley Dursley has bragged about doing and witnessing being done to Duke Potter can be classified as child abuse. Of course, such an investigation would spread to include not only the neighborhood you live in but also the school the boys attended before going to Smelting and Hogwarts to find out why no one reported suspected abuse.”

 “It would still be your word against ours,” Uncle Vernon stated before pointing at the book. “And as far as any court would believe, that’s full of lies that you made up to discredit and slander our reputations.”

Before anyone could say anything more, Aunt Petunia grabbed the pen and scribbled her name on the paper. “Here, take the boy!” She hissed, shoving the paper and the pen at Vradica. “I never want to hear the names Vradica or Potter again!”

 “Petunia!” Gasped Uncle Vernon even as Harry’s heart beat a bit faster. She had actually signed him over to the Imperial Crown Prince?

 Lurching to her feet, she whirled on Uncle Vernon with such a strange look on her face that the large man actually took a step back. “Do you have _any_ idea what you nearly brought down on our heads? We’ll talk more when we get home!”

 Reaching out, she grabbed Dudley’s arm and hauled the protesting boy to his feet, the action causing him to spill his plate of cakes on the floor with a cry of despair. She also grabbed Uncle Vernon’s arm with her other hand, and somehow the skinny woman managed to drag both of them out of the room, leaving a dazed Harry alone with the three strangers.


	5. Paula and Harry Potter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paula files paperwork, and Harry talks with Petros.

Paula was never more happy to see a more despicable group of people leave than when the door closed behind the Dursleys. She had dutifully transcribed everything that Dudley Dursley had bragged about either doing or watching his parents do to young Harry, and it was probably the only thing that had kept her from gutting them to play with their entrails. Dragon children were rare, and each in the clan was precious, and so to have one so badly abused as the skinny boy in the far too large clothes caused an almost scary rage to burn in her belly. Well, scary for anyone who didn’t want to be face to face with a huge, armored, highly magical being that could melt stone with its breath.

 “Petros, you and Paula work together to create a report with one copy to go to Director Bones, and the other will be kept with us,” Abel instructed, snapping her out of her thoughts. “Once you are done, Paula, if you would take the report and the change of guardianship papers to Director Bones that would be wonderful.”

 Paula nodded. “I’ll make sure there aren’t any other papers that need to be filed on His Grace’s behalf.”

 Abel nodded and turned to Harry. “May I borrow one of your school uniforms?” he asked. “I’ll send the concierge out to get you some clothes that actually fit for you to wear until we can arrange for a tailor to come fit you with an appropriate wizarding wardrobe.”

 “Um, I don’t have much money…” Harry began, obviously embarrassed, but Abel knelt in front of him and put his hands on those thin shoulders.

 “Harry, it is my honor and privilege to provide you with the basics that you need to survive in society,” Abel said, his voice soft. “Also, as my fosterling, it is my privilege to spoil you with presents and trips while also making sure that you do not become a greedy brat. I will also find tutors to help you learn politics, comportment, and anything else that you need to know to take your position in society.”

 There was an uncertain look on Harry’s face before he nodded once. “May I ask a question?” Abel nodded, and Harry lifted his head to look at Abel. “Why do you wear a cloth over your head and face?”

 Smiling, Abel stood and escorted the boy towards the couch. “Both my sister and I wear veils so that people don’t know what we look like aside from a trusted few,” he explained, reaching up to remove the coronet and placed it on the coffee table. “This lets us go out and about among people without getting mobbed, as well as allows us the anonymity to accomplish certain tasks that we normally wouldn’t have been able to do.”

 Harry bit his lip a bit unsure even as he gingerly sat down on the couch. “Can I see what you look like?” he asked before his stomach growled, causing him to blush. He jumped up and moved over to his trunk, throwing open the lid to pull out a rumpled uniform that he quickly held out ot Paula. “Um, here.”

 Paula took it with a smile before settling at the table with Petros and their paperwork. She did put in a discreet call to room service for some food as well as request the concierge to come up to retrieve the uniform for sizing. A maid was also requested to clean up the mess the Dursleys had made when they had been there. It took about half an hour but Paula was soon making her way through the Ministry of Magic’s atrium for the second time that day, easily ignoring any who was trying to catch her attention as she briskly moved through the people crowding the building still.

 Upon reaching the DMLE’s office, she wasn’t surprised to find Amelia Bones waiting for her at the door to her office. Paula inclined her head and lifted the file in her arms slightly. “Director Bones, may I ask a few minutes of your time?”

 Nodding, Bones went back into her office and shut the door behind Paula who handed over the file with a grim look. “Abel has secured custody of His Grace, and this is the report from both Petros and myself on what the cousin bragged about and what was discovered about His Grace’s living conditions at the house,” Paula stated before shaking her head. “We have a lot of ground to cover if His Grace is going to trust us, but Abel’s good with kids. Always has been.”

 “I have a meeting with Croaker in ten minutes to hash out a team to help you three,” Bones remarked, picking up the file and flipping through the papers. “I’d like you to attend so we can best figure out the best fits for you.”

 Paula grinned. “It will be a delight,” she stated. It had been a while since she had a chance to talk with others not in the Inquisition when putting together a sort of task force. She would get a suite for them at Le Chamber after this meeting.

 ****

 Harry lay in the large, very comfortable bed and stared at the ceiling, watching the lights from the outside play across the ceiling where it slipped through the curtains. So much had happened today that he was still having trouble wrapping his mind around it.

 Someone wanted him enough to give him a family.

 A high profile one, but still a family. After all, it wasn’t like he wasn’t some celebrity in the Wizarding World, but Alexi - and how cool was it that he could call the Imperial Crown Prince by his first name -  had promised to help him with anything he needed.

 They had a long talk over some of the best food that Harry had ever eaten, even better than what he had at Hogwarts, and Alexi had answered all his questions even though a couple of times that answer had been “May I tell you later?” Harry hadn’t minded that because Alexi had treated him like an adult and actually _listened_ to him when he talked about various things that bothered him.

 Unfortunately, everything that had happened was keeping him awake, and he finally sighed, getting out of the very comfortable bed. There was still some food left over from the late snack they had split once Paula had returned, and he was feeling a bit hungry. When he opened the bedroom door, he paused at the sight of Alexi standing at the window, the curtains pulled back to let light stream into the room. The prince was just standing there, staring outside, and Harry carefully moved closer, not wanting to disturb him and maybe make him angry.

 Alexi didn’t move, didn’t seem to even know he was there, but Harry jumped with a tiny squeak when a large shadow shifted to suddenly become Petros, dressed only in a pair of sleeping pants. Somehow, he looked even bigger like that, and Harry swallowed at the sight of various scars scattered across that large chest. Petros offered him a small smile before motioning for him to come over to his side. With a concerned glance at Alexi, harry hurried over to Petros who knelt down to wrap an arm around his shoulders.

 “He’s sleepwalking,” Petros murmured, and Harry nodded in understanding. Seamus had often wandered around their room until about the second month of school, but Harry had always managed to wake him up so he wouldn’t hurt himself. “He warned us of this so we might stop him if he tried to walk away in the middle of the night.”

 “Why don’t you just wake him up?” asked Harry, a bit confused. “One of my roommates was sleepwalking for a while back when we started school, and he asked us to wake him up to keep him from hurting himself.”

 “Normally I would, but he hasn’t been sleeping well since we made plans to come here because he’s been worrying over various details,” Petros said, rising to his feet and gently patting Harry’s shoulder. “Now, what are you doing out of bed yourself, young man? I thought you would sleep yourself out.”

 Harry shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep because of everything that happened,” he confessed, even as he glanced at the small fridge.

 Apparently Petros had noticed the look because he chuckled and moved over to it, pulling out the leftovers. “Don’t eat too much and try to get some sleep tonight,” he said, offering the finger sandwiches to Harry who took a couple with a grateful smile as he nodded in agreement. He had only wanted to get a bite to eat in an effort to get to sleep.

 With one last glance at the silent Alexi, Harry hurried back to bed, a new warmth spreading through him. Maybe this was what it was like to have a family? If so, he’d fight to keep these people who cared about him.


	6. Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dumbledore has tea with Harry, and Snape starts on his list.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a couple of days between the two meetings.

Albus Dumbledore hummed to himself as he walked into Le Chamber with a lighter step than he had used in a while. When Father Nightroad had sent him a missive, inviting him to afternoon tea with young Harry, Dumbledore had closed himself in his private quarters and cried for the pain and suffering that young man had gone through before asking Lily and James for forgiveness for what he had put their son through. Then, he had cleaned up, emerged from his quarters, and decided to do something to give Harry back parts of his parents. He had asked his professors as well as some former alumni to write down any stories that they could remember about the couple. A quick note to the Lovegoods had verified that he would be able to get them bound into a book for Harry in time for his birthday. As those he had asked had previously donated copies of pictures to make up Hagrid’s album, Albus hoped that some of the stories would go along with the donated pictures.

 “Headmaster Dumbledore, welcome to Le Chamber,” greeted the attractive witch at the front desk. Belle Cedrica, a Hufflepuff who had been a source of comfort during the later years of Voldemort’s terror, he remembered, and he gave her a smile of delight. He did so love to see his old students succeeding in life.

 “Miss Cedrica, a pleasure to see you looking so delightful,” Dumbledore said before reaching into his pocket to pull out his invitation. He held it out so only she could see the crest on it. He had grown past the need to boast and drop names of influential people just to get noticed. “Could you alert Miss Paula that I am here for tea?”

 “They are expecting you already, Headmaster,” Bella replied with a bright smile, putting a bit of parchment on the desk with a room number on it. “Tea will be sent up in five minutes.”

 “Thank you, my dear, and may your day continue to be pleasant,” Dumbledore said, taking the slip and starting up the stairs. It took him a few minutes to get to the right door, but almost as soon as he knocked, he was being ushered into the room by Paula.

 He had to admit he looked around the large, richly decorated suite with a bit of awe because in all of his years, he had never been in any of the room in Le Chamber. The room was decorated in emerald greens, sapphire blues, and accents in gold and silver in such a way that nothing managed to be gaudy, and all of the furniture looked rather comfortable. He sincerely hoped he would be able to get out of whatever seat he took without help.

 “Ah, thank you for joining us for tea, Professor Dumbledore,” greeted the veiled figure of Abel Nightroad in his Crown Prince persona as he emerged from a small dining room with Harry behind him, looking much more relaxed than when he last saw him as the students boarded the Hogwarts Express. “Harry has been informed that today’s conversation will be among adults and thus will have some elements that he won’t be allowed to talk about without expressed permission. He has given his magical oath that he will not talk about what we say he can’t.”

 Dumbledore nodded and looked at Harry seriously. “You do know the ramifications of breaking your magical oath, don’t you?” He had known a few students to make a magical oath only to break it later, and the consequences were never just a slap on the wrist.

 “Yes, sir,” Harry replied, his expression just as serious. “Miss Paula explained the consequences quite thoroughly to me before I gave my oath, and they offered to find something for me to do if I didn’t want to be included in your discussion.”

 “You are a very brave young man, Harry,” Dumbledore said, pride in his voice. “Most your age wouldn’t want to have such a burden on them.”

 Harry shrugged and took a seat on the couch. “Most people my age don’t have a madman after them for some reason,” he countered as a tea tray popped into existence on the coffee table. He reached for the teapot only to stop when Paula cleared her throat and moved over to assume the duties of the host herself. “Keeping secrets is nothing new for me.”

 “And for that, you have my sincerest apologies, Harry Potter,” Dumbledore stated, accepting the offer to sit in a chair across from Harry before taking the tea that Paula held out. “You asked me why Voldemort was after you and at the time, I didn’t tell you. However, I am now prepared and willing to answer all of your questions.”

 “Why now?” asked Harry, his eyes narrowing slightly with suspicion. “Why not back in the infirmary?”

 “Because now there are things in motion to take care of that madman,” Dumbledore stated, looking at Harry. “The reason why Voldemort targeted you and your family is because of a prophecy that was made during the last years of his reign of terror. The basis of it stated that a child would be born as the seventh month died who would be marked the Dark Lord’s equal.” He waved a hand. “I do not take much stock in divination or prophecy, but there are some that are determined to be fulfilled no matter what we may believe.”

 “You make it sound like prophecies are alive, sir,” Harry pointed out, nibbling on a sandwich.

 “In a way, magic is alive,” Dumbledore explained, putting his tea aside so he could gesture with his hands. It always helped him when he was trying to explain a concept to someone. “Many Muggleborns believe that it is the Christian God who has blessed us with magic as part of his Divine Plan while others believe magic to be part of their patron deity’s blessing, granting us a small fraction of the well of power that all gods and goddesses draw upon.”

 “There are other gods?” asked Harry, surprised.

 “There have always been other gods,” Nightroad stated with a slight shrug. “The Catholic Church has done its best for a very long time to stamp their worship out so that it may be the single ruling entity when it comes to religion. Of course, humanity is two things when it comes to tradition: stubborn and curious. The Catholic Church did manage to stamp out some of the beliefs in Europe and the Americas for a while, but young people grew dissatisfied with the leaders of the church and what they were preaching. So, they turned their attention back to the old traditions, leading to a resurgence of worship in what many saw as the Old Gods. Often some of the old traditions were lost through time so new ones were created.” He chuckled slightly at the stunned look on Harry’s face. “After Armageddon, the Catholic Church has been too busy trying to keep Europe from destabilizing into another Armageddon along with Albion and the Empire to consider trying to stamp out those religions.”

 “Okay back to this prophecy,” Harry said after a few minutes of thought, and Dumbledore figured he’d ask more questions when his head wasn’t filled with a sudden influx of information.

 “A young Death Eater overhead the first part of it, but not the rest of it, which stated that the Chosen One would have a power He knew not and neither would live until the other died,” Dumbledore continued. “Your parents and another couple went into hiding, but Voldemort found out where you were from one of your parents’ friends. I don’t know why he decided to target you instead of the other child, but he did.”

 Harry frowned in confusion as he finished his sandwich. “Did you ask the one who betrayed my parents why?” he asked, waving his empty teacup around a bit. “I mean, if this person really did betray my parents, wouldn’t they have been bragging later or making an excuse for their behavior if they were caught?”

 “That is a very good question, young man, and I will look through the court transcripts to find the answer for you,” promised Dumbledore, pulling out a small journal from his robes along with a self-inking quill and scribbling down a reminder. “Things were chaotic after Voldemort’s destruction so I do not fully remember what happened at Sirius Black’s trial.” He frowned harder as he tried to remember what had happened at that time. “I admit to being greatly distracted because just the day after your parents’ murder, I was attacked myself by various Death Eaters who believed I knew where you were which was what led to my decision to hide you with your Muggle aunt. I had hoped that the anonymity and the strangeness of the Muggle world when compared to the more familiar Wizarding World that many Death Eaters grew up in would keep you safe. I never imagined that Petunia hated Lily and James so much as to take it out on you. For that, you have my deepest apologies.”

 “Then why did you make me go back at the end of the year?” Harry looked at Dumbledore, his eyes filled with pain and a touch of betrayal.

 “Because I wasn’t ready at the time to come to Albion,” Nightroad remarked, reaching up to remove his veil and put it to the side. “My real name is Abel Nightroad, and I work as a priest with the Department of Foreign Affairs for the Vatican. Headmaster Dumbledore and Master Flamel came to my employer, Cardinal Caterina Sforza, and enlisted out help in accomplishing two tasks; to fully destroy the Dark Lord known as Voldemort and to investigate your home life, removing you if at all possible.”

 “Does that mean that everything has been a lie?” Dumbledore’s heart broke slightly at the crushed look on Harry’s face, and Abel moved to kneel next to Harry, putting the trembling teacup aside to take Harry’s hands in his.

 “There are many things I will do, but one thing I won’t will be to lie to you,” Abel stated, his voice gentle. “The Eternal Mother is my sister by mutual adoption, and she _did_ make me the Crown Prince. I _do_ want you, even after Voldemort is gone.”

 “But you have a job at the Vatican,” began Harry, and Abel chuckled, ruffling Harry’s hair in a friendly way.

 “You are much more important than what I was doing there,” stated the silver haired man, shifting to sit next to Harry on the couch. “Cardinal Sforza is an old friend, and she won’t mind releasing me from my position there once Voldemort is dealt with so I can focus on taking care of you.”

 Harry hesitantly leaned against Abel, a touch of hope back in his expression. “You really mean that? You honestly want me?”

 “Yes, I honestly want you,” Abel said, his voice as open and honest as it ever had been. “I may not be a father-figure in your life, but perhaps an uncle or older brother? Someone who is willing to help you and punish you by grounding you forever because you decided to sneak out in the middle of the night to get drunk at a club.” He smiled, and Dumbledore was suddenly struck by how attractive Abel actually was. Dumbledore pitied the younger man when someone finally got a look behind the veil, and the news got out about how attractive he truly was.

 “Which reminds me,” Dumbledore stated with a slight chuckle before he dug around inside his robes to pull out a roll of parchment. “Your final grades for the year.”

 Harry flushed and ducked his head even as he took the parchment and unrolled it. His blush darkened at the sight of the grades before he tried to stuff the scroll under a cushion only for Abel to hold out his hand. WIth a reluctant sigh, Harry placed it in Abel’s hand, and Abel looked over it with a thoughtful hum. Dumbledore helpfully explained the grading system of Hogwarts, and Abel nodded before looking at Harry.

 “Would you like it if I hired a tutor to help you understand the subjects better?” Abel offered. “I admit I’m impressed with your grades considering you didn’t have the same foundation as your classmates.”

 “It might help,” Harry said, his voice soft. “But I have these two friends I don’t want to upset.”

 Abel reached out to rest a hand on Harry’s back. “If they are your true friends, they won’t care about your academic achievements, but if it makes you feel better, we can ask them if they want to be included on your lessons,” he offered with a smile. “If nothing else, it might help them raise their grades a bit.”

 Dumbledore sat back in his chair and stroked his beard as he thought about all the possible tutors that might be the best match for this odd little family, before he realized that there was one former student who would be perfect for Harry. Not only would it help Harry learn about magic and this world but it would give him another person who knew his parents as well. “I may know someone…”

 ***

 Sitting in a corner booth at the Three Broomsticks, Severus patiently waited for his guest to arrive. While there had been some animosity between them during their school years, he sincerely hoped his lunch guest would be willing to work with him or at least one of his tasks would be more difficult.

 It had been a very easy task to take Lord Lucifer up on his offer, especially when Lucius indicated he would as well. Their Dark Marks had been removed, and a band of very ancient looking runes now encircled their forearms as a reminder of who they owed their true allegiance to. Lucius was already at work on his list of tasks as they were all political and social in nature, but Severus had a bit longer to get started on his due to the complexity of what was asked of him. If nothing else, he did so enjoy a new puzzle to figure out, and his list was chock full of them.

 A worn looking man in even more worn clothes appeared at the door, and Severus raised his hand briefly to catch his attention. With a nod, Remus Lupin made his way through the tables and slid into the booth across from Severus. It was still a couple of weeks until the full moon, and Severus noticed that Remus was already moving a bit stiffly. Had he been injured in some way or was it lingering due to the man’s current living conditions?

 “I admit I was surprised to get a lunch invitation from you of all people,” Lupin remarked, even as his eyes flicked to Severus’ left arm.

 Rolling his eyes slightly, Severus slid up his left sleeve to expose the rune band. “My patron disliked my choice of leaders and reclaimed my loyalty along with assigning me some tasks to be accomplished as penance.”

 Normally, he wouldn’t be this free with information as knowledge was indeed power, but he required Lupin’s assistance with the Wolfsbane Potion. Better to lay all his cards on the table and be honest with the former Gryffindor than keep some things to himself and gain Lupin’s mistrust.

 “And at least one of those tasks has to do with me?” inquired Lupin, sitting back with a thoughtful look on his face.

 “In an indirect way,” Severus admitted, tugging his sleeve back down. “I am to refine the Wolfsbane Potion so werewolves no longer suffer.” He took a sip of his butterbeer before continuing, using the delay to organize his thoughts. “Madam Pomfrey is willing to assist as well for any monitoring and healing that is needed, and Professor Dumbledore is allowing me to use a room in the unused third floor corridor to brew and experiment in as it will be far enough away from the students that if anything should happen, it will easily be contained.” Severus had actually hoped for a hut on the grounds, but Dumbledore had pointed out that such a structure would not be comfortable traveling to during bad weather or the colder winter months.

 Lupin frowned slightly as Madam Rosmerta came over to take their orders before leaving them alone again. Severus leaned back in his seat as he watched the werewolf with a careful gaze, not because he was afraid of being attacked but more due to needing to know how to structure any counter arguments to get him to agree. He could have asked any werewolf to help him with this, but he wanted to extend this olive branch to Lupin as his last link to a wonderful woman. Lily Potter had been friends to both of them in the beginning before things had deteriorated between them.

 “All right, I’ll help you, but you should know that Professor Dumbledore has put my name forward as a tutor for a student,” Lupin stated. “I’m not sure how I’m going to let them know about my situation, but I need this job.”

 “Do you know who the employer is yet?” inquired Severus even as he started running the list of students through his mind. It was probably a former first year or a former fourth year trying to improve their grades for the following year. Most seventh years either had tutors lined up to help them for their NEWTS or knew of someone who had a tutor that would allow them to join in the group as usually only the upper middle class and higher could afford tutors.

 “Crown Prince Alexi Vradica,” Lupin remarked, his voice soft as he shrugged, apparently a bit embarrassed. “I hope that because he comes from the Empire, he won’t be quite as discriminating against werewolves.”

 “It is possible,” Severus mused, his answer vague enough that he wasn’t committing himself one way or another. “Rumor has it the Headmaster had shown him around the Ministry.”

 Lupin nodded, a thoughtful look on his face as their food was put in front of them before Rosmerta vanished again. Gossip she may be, but never let it be said that Rosmerta didn’t recognize a serious conversation when it was happening and made herself scarce. The fact that Severus had paid the bill ahead of time certainly helped her service.

 “Perhaps I’ll ask him for an introduction then,” mused Lupin as he started in on his food. He gave Severus a lopsided grin. “Worse that happens is that he says no.”

 “Very true,” mused Severus before leaning a forward a bit as he dropped his voice a touch. “Now, let me explain what I have planned so far for the Wolfsbane Potion…”


	7. Draco Malfoy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chance meeting in Gilded Avenue.

Draco drifted along behind his mother as they walked down Gilded Avenue, not truly paying attention to the window shopping she was doing as he continued writing in his journal with a self-inking quill. It had been about a week since The Morrigan and Lord Lucifer had visited Malfoy Manor and spoke with the adults, and he knew Mother was getting a bit frustrated with trying to find out who The Morrigan’s Raven was. The only new thing that had happened was Lucius informing them that Alexi Vradica, Crown Prince of the Methuselah Empire, was visiting Albion, and he had apparently been very polite but very effective at getting out meeting with Minister Fudge.

  _I wonder if the Crown Prince is The Morrigan’s Raven?_ Mused Draco, frowning down at the book in his hand. It made sense considering the clue she had left with them. A person in a position of power and helping Duke Potter. Well, it wasn’t known if Vradica was helping Potter or not, but he was definitely in a position of power. He briefly shook his head, mentally filing that thought until he found further proof that Vradica was indeed The Morrigan’s Raven in Albion or discovered some other proof to point to a different individual.

 Unfortunately, the lapse of attention to his surroundings sent Draco colliding with someone, and he grunted as he dropped his book. “My apologies,” he began, bending to pick up his book once he had caught his balance. There was always the possibility that the person he just collided with in Gilded Alley was someone he didn’t want to get on the bad side of. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

 “It is all right. I am sure you were quite occupied with whatever problem had you frowning at your book, young man,” remarked a pleasant voice, and Draco looked up to find himself staring into a veiled face. The peacock shaped coronet and the magical canopy that was hovering above the man blocking all sunlight had Draco realizing just who he had bumped into.

 “It is only a personal summer project, Your Imperial Highness,” Draco stated with a bow to Alexi Vradica. “One to help fill up the dull times where there is nothing to hold one’s attention.”

 There was an amused chuckle from Vradica. “Polite and intelligent. As you know who I am, may I have your name, my intelligent young man?”

 “Draconis Lucius Malfoy, Heir of the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy, sir,” Draco stated, before straightening. Automatically, his eyes flickered around the rest of the group to see who was with Vradica, and while he noticed the couple in suits and the two obvious Aurors, the sight of a well dressed Harry Potter standing beside Vradica was a surprise. He briefly inclined his head in greeting to Potter but otherwise didn’t say anything.

 “A pleasure to meet you, Your Excellency,” Vradica greeted, extending a hand, and Draco gave it a polite shake as the prince gestured towards Potter. “May I introduce my fosterling, Harry James Potter, Duke of the Ancient and Noble Houses of Gryffindor and Potter. I understand the two of you attend the same school.”

 “His Grace and I have a schoolboy animosity to each other, sir,” Draco explained before bowing slightly to Potter. “Your Grace.”

 Potter gave a bit of a clumsy bow back. “Um, Your Excellency,” he stammered, showing a distinct lack of training in etiquette and comportment. His own tutor had him practice bowing for at least an hour one day just to get all the uncertainty out of his actions.

 Before anyone could say anything further, Draco heard his mother calling for him, and he turned to find her heading towards them, an expressionless look on her face. Unable to help it, Draco winced, because Mother only looked like that when she was angry with him. Draco bowed to Vradica again. “Forgive my abrupt departure, sir, but my mother is calling me.”

 “Then allow us to escort you back to her,” Vradica offered, gesturing for Draco to join them as he started towards Mother. Biting back a sigh, Draco fell into step next to Potter as the group moved to intercept the Malfoy Matron.

 “Draconis Lucius Malfoy, I thought you promised to remain close to me,” drawled Mother before she gave Vradica a deep curtsey. “Forgive me, Your Imperial Highness. I did not mean to ignore you.”

 Vradica gave a soft laugh and waved her words away. “It is understandable that you are concerned with the safety of your son, Lady Malfoy,” he said before offering his hand to her, and she slid hers into it with a small blush. “And someone with your beauty should not bow her head to an old man like I.”

 “I thank you for the compliment, sir, but I am sure you are quite busy,” she said, and Draco was surprised that she was blushing like a schoolgirl. “If you will excuse me, Draco and I shall continue on our way and allow you to continue with your business.”

 “Our business involves a meeting with the account managers of my fosterling’s houses,” Vradica remarked, gesturing back to Potter. “Perhaps you might be willing to accompany us while the young lords keep each other from mischief due to boredom.”

 Mother gave a polite giggle as she covered her mouth, and Draco resisted rolling his eyes. He had seen her act like that before, usually when things were going the way she wanted them to, and being singled out like this by the Imperial Crown Prince was a definite feather in her cap. Draco stepped towards the Imperial Crown Prince and gave a polite bow. “Perhaps afterwards, sir, we might escort you and Duke Potter to lunch at one of the fine restaurants located in the Avenue? I would enjoy talking about the Empire’s wildlife, and if the ravens found there are the mischievous warriors that flit around our lands.”

 “I believe they may be,” mused Vradica in a soft voice that said he was choosing his words carefully, and Draco resisted the urge to start beaming at this new information. Either Vradica was the Morrigan’s Raven or he knew who it was, because anyone else would have just remarked that ravens were the same the world over. Vradica inclined his head to Draco before offering Mother his arm. “However, that is a discussion to be had when the goblins aren’t waiting for us to make them even more money.”

 Draco fell into step next to Potter even as he flipped open his journal again, making a small note on a blank page about contacting Miss Lovegood to see if she would be interested in publishing his book of grooming spells. He had sent out quite a few letters to various classmates to see if they wished to contribute to the book, and depending on how many did, it may end up becoming a school-wide book.

 “What are you working on?”

 Blinking, Draco looked up to find Potter regarding him with curiosity in his green eyes, and Draco hummed as he thought about how the other boy might react to finding out that he was working on a book with grooming spells in it. However, this was a chance for him to make a better impression on Potter than he had in the past and perhaps end a bit of animosity between them.

 “It’s a book of grooming spells and potions,” Draco explained with a slight shrug as he closed the book. “I thought it would be appreciated by those who are unfamiliar with such things, and I have sent out inquiries among our classmates to see if they wished to contribute to it.” He shrugged a shoulder again. “I will see if there is any interest among those who go to Hogwarts in such a book.”

 “Is there normally an interest in such things?” Potter asked, looking at the journal in Draco’s hands with undisguised curiosity. He shrugged a shoulder, fidgeting slightly as Draco stared at him. “I’ve heard a couple of the girls in Gryffindor giggling over their magazines, but I couldn’t figure out what the interest was.”

 “For some, it is the ability to feel comfortable about their looks,” Draco said, organizing his thoughts even as they drew closer to Gringotts. “I know a few girls among our circle treat make up and new hairstyles as a sort of war paint that they put on to help them hide what they really feel from the rest of the world. Add in a new dress, and they’re ready to take on the world. For others, it is about making a good first impression. They look good so others will treat them with consideration and good manners for as long as they display their own good manners.”

 He could see that Potter was actually _listening_ to him and not dismissing his words nor the hidden advice they contained, so he continued talking. “You see, the center of the matter is First Impressions. How a person dresses and presents themselves to their peers upon first meeting will set their impression, and it will take a _lot_ of work to change it. For example, most everyone will see Professor Snape as a growling and hovering professor who is mean to all his students but favors the Slytherin House. What they _don’t_ see is the lack of serious potion injuries or deaths due to poorly prepared potions.”

 “And the house points?” Asked Potter, and Draco saw a thoughtful look on his face.

 “Look at what he took the House Points for and how many rather than the fact he took them,” Draco advised, pointing a finger at Potter. “For things like undermining his authority or speaking back, it will be a couple of points that will be easily replaced by homework or some other deed. For more serious infractions, it will be more points that may lead to further disciplinary action by other professors.”

 “What sort of serious infractions?”

 Draco shrugged a shoulder. “Tossing potion ingredients at someone else for one. That is a serious one in his book because at best, the ingredient will end up on the floor and someone will slip on it. At worst, it lands in a partially made potion and causes serious trouble for everyone in the classroom.”

 A frown crossed Potter’s face. “So why does it seem like Snape hates me?” he asked, looking at Draco. “That first day, he was asking me things I had no way of knowing about, and he called me  celebrity like I _wanted_ to be known for the murder of my parents.”

 “There is a great deal that is unknown about the night of October 31st, 981,” Draco said, choosing his words carefully. “The Dark Lord attacked your family at Godric’s Hollow, and only you survived that night. No one knows just why, and the speculation is that you did something that protected you. Only no one knows what, and to experiment would require someone willing to die to see if the attempted protection works.”

 Potter huffed and shook his head. “How could _I_ have done anything? I was 15 months old at the time!”

 “And that, Your Grace, is the source of the confusion,” Mother suddenly stated, and Draco jumped as he realized that they were inside one of Gringott’s conference rooms. He ducked his head slightly in apology for not paying attention to their surroundings as he talked with Potter. His inattention could have cost him much more than just a bit of pride.

 Potter was ushered to a seat next to Vradica, and Draco claimed the seat next to Mother across from the Imperial Crown Prince. The woman sat down on the other side of Potter while the large man stood behind Vradica’s chair, and Draco noticed that the two Aurors were leaning against the back wall. He was a bit surprised to not find any goblins in the room, and Draco had to wonder where they were. A person was not normally allowed to wait in a conference room for whatever goblin that they had business with as the goblins prefered to be there first.

 “Before our account managers join us, perhaps you might be able to clarify something for me, Lady Malfoy,” remarked Vradica, reaching into his clothes and pulling out a large raven’s feather. “Due to a few things going on back home, I asked the DMLE for files on former Death Eaters, both those accused and those proven guilty. Imagine my surprise when I found this inside the folder speaking about the Malfoy family, and the Auror in charge of delivering said folders swore that it wasn’t there when he picked it up.” Draco could almost see the sharp smile that was hidden behind the veil. “What is your connection to The Morrigan, and why would she bring you to my attention?”

 Draco sat back in his seat, wondering how Mother was going to explain this without it coming across as arrogant or condescending, both of which was rather easy to do when discussing one’s personal belief. He was also quite aware of the Aurors who might not have been part of the conversation, but  he was sure they were listening to every word that was said.

 “I am a follower of The Morrigan,” Mother began, choosing her words carefully from the slow way she was talking. “A few days after Draco returned home from school, she visited Malfoy Manor with a task to appease the Dark Mother, and she told me that I would be working with one of Her Ravens who was coming to deal with that as our world had ignored it for a decade.”

 Vradica hummed and tapped the feather on the table. “And this task?”

 Mother shrugged her shoulders. “To deliver the one known as Voldemort to Cailleach.”

 A shudder went through the room, but surprisingly not from Vradica, Potter, or the two in suits near him. “And just how do you plan on helping me in that endeavor?” inquired Vradica, his voice amused and a bit curious. He waved a general hand towards the Aurors. “I have people helping me and information at my disposal.”

 Draco glanced at Mother to find a pure Slytherin smile on her face. “If you wish an introduction to any of the upper class families, I can easily smoothe the way for you,” she pointed out. “While many would seek you out for an audience, it would be easier to invite you to garden parties and other activities with a more casual environment while introducing you to Society.” She shrugged a shoulder. “Much faster for you to meet everyone as well without raising suspicions on why you want to meet certain individuals.”

 Vradica hummed before inclining his head. “That idea has merit and we can speak more once our business is done here for the day,” he stated just as the doors opened to admit four goblins, two of whom had large books in their arms.

 As he rose to his feet to greet the goblins, Draco had to marvel how quickly things had progressed today. A chance meeting, and not only had they found The Morrigan’s Raven, but the Malfoys were now associated with one of the more politically influential families in the world. That would go a long way to help repairing the slightly tarnished reputation of the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gilded Avenue I put together to give the Upper Class someplace to shop and be seen while visiting dignitaries and nobility would have a place to stay. Because sorry, I can't imagine some visiting dignitary staying at the Leaky Cauldron.


	8. Remus Lupin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tutor is hired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a threat here about killing another person should they turn on their family.

Nervously, Remus Lupin smoothed down his least worn robes before he stepped out of the private portkey room, and he nearly jumped when he noticed the young wizard in a uniform standing there, apparently waiting for him. “Um, hello?”

 The young wizard bowed, slightly. “Tutor Remus Lupin?” he asked, and Remus hesitantly nodded. He was here for an interview, wasn’t he? “If you will follow me, I shall escort you to His Imperial Highness’ suite.”

 There honestly wasn’t anything he could do but follow the young wizard up the stairs in the main lobby and endure the whispers at his back over his appearance. It was nothing that he hadn’t heard before but here they were a bit more loud as he realized just how out of place he was in these rich surroundings. Even when he had been a guest of the Potters, he had never felt out of place in their ancient home with all of its history and riches, but this was Le Chamber, one of the most posh places in all of Londinium. Diplomats and royalty stayed here when the visited, and it wasn’t unheard of for one of the Ancient and Noble Houses to rent a suite for a night out on the town.

 The man who answered the young wizard’s polite knock looked large enough to give Hagrid a run for his money in the size and strength department, but after giving Remus a once over, he stepped to one side, letting the werewolf into the suite. Remus hesitantly reached into his robes and withdrew the invitation that Professor Dumbledore had given him, which had doubled as the portkey that had brought him here. He offered it to the large man as the door shut behind him.

 “I have an interview with His Imperial Highness for a position of tutor?” Remus wasn’t sure if he was asking for clarification or trying to make a statement, but he knew that this man made him nervous in a strange way, like he was in the presence of a far superior predator that made his wolf want to huddle against the ground with a submissive whine.

 “Come, Tutor Lupin,” the man said, turning to lead him farther into the suite. “You are expected for tea.”

 Fumbling with the invitation, Remus slid it back into his pocket as he followed the large man into the main sitting room, and he nearly stumbled in surprise as he was hit with a scent that he hadn’t experienced in over a decade yet one he would never forget. Instantly, his eyes were drawn to the young boy sitting at a table with familiar school books spread out around him, and he felt like he had been punched in the stomach. There was no mistaking that messy hair nor that scent that made his wolf howl in excitement for being reunited with Pack again. “Harry.”

 Emerald green eyes flew up to look at him with a bit of confusion mixed with a wariness, but before Remus could move any closer, a slender figure wearing a veil emerged from another arched doorway, easily moving between Remus and Harry without seeming as if he was doing it deliberately. “Welcome, Mister Lupin. Headmaster Dumbledore promised to send his best candidate for the position of tutor to help my fosterling and possibly a few of his friends should they wish a bit more instruction.”

 “I am honored that Professor Dumbledore spoke so highly of me,” Remus replied, trying to tear his attention from the curious face that was peeking around the Crown Prince, but despite his best efforts to remain polite, he had to know how long his cub had been with the Crown Prince. “Please forgive my asking, but how did Harry become part of your household? I was friends with his parents before they died, and circumstances kept me away from Londinium and Albion for far too long.”

 “Duchess Potter once saved my life when I had visited Albion during the last Blood Conflict,” the Crown Prince said with a casual wave. “She and her husband nursed me through the irritating curse that I had taken from someone. When I heard that Duke Potter had returned to the Magical Community, I came to offer my assistance into helping him with his debut into society. His home life was less than ideal for one of his station so I offered to foster him until he was old enough to assume his responsibilities.”

 A frown crossed Remus’ face as a memory nagged at him, but he brushed it aside, focusing on the Crown Prince. “Thank you for answering my question. If you will still have me, then I would be delighted to tutor Duke Potter and any of his friends.”

 “Do you have a place to stay at the moment?” The question threw him for a bit before he shook his head. The Crown Prince nodded once. “There is an extra room here in our suite that you can occupy, and a new wardrobe will be part of your salary.”

 “I am not one for charity,” began Remus, afraid he was going to insult his new boss.

 Humming, the Crown Prince turned and glanced down at Harry. “Why don’t you take your books into your room and let me speak privately with Mister Lupin for a few minutes,” he suggested, and Remus felt a chill run down his spine. What would the Crown Prince have to talk to him about that he didn’t want Harry to hear? “When you are asked back, you can bring your photo album and perhaps Mister Lupin will tell you some stories to go along with those pictures.”

 Green eyes looked between the two of them before he nodded once. In a few minutes, Harry had vanished into a room with his books and closed the door behind him. The large man moved over to stand next to the door to Harry’s room, apparently a guard to prevent anyone to get to the young wizard or to let him come out before the Crown Prince was ready for him.

 “Please explain to me how a new wardrobe is considered charity when I just said it was to be part of your salary,” requested the Crown Prince as he waved Remus towards the couch as he sank into a chair.

 Remus carefully sat down and rested his hands on his knees. “I have some money saved up and can purchase clothes for myself.”

 “I have a tailor coming to get a proper wizarding wardrobe for Young Harry, and it would be no issue to add you to his time here as he is being paid by the hour,” countered the Crown Prince. “A healer is also arriving to give him a thorough check up, and while I cannot demand it of you, I would ask that you see the healer if you need to.”

 “You know I’m a werewolf?” There was a sort of resigned feeling as he asked the question, and he wondered if this was where he lost another job because of his furry problem.

 “As the next full moon isn’t until the fourteenth of July, I do not see how this is a problem,” the Crown Prince announced before tilting his head slightly. “If you need a secure location for your change, I can start looking now for one as I am in the process of finding an appropriate home for us here in Albion.”

 There was a strange numbness that was spreading through him, and Remus wondered when he fell through the looking glass. _No one_ was ever this calm in accepting him, not even James Potter who had taken a couple of days to come to terms with his condition. “How can you trust me?” he asked, his voice breaking slightly in his confusion. Was the Empire truly that accepting of werewolves than the human kingdoms? “How do you know I won’t just turn on all of you during the full moon?”

 “For one thing, I trust Albus Dumbledore,” began the Crown Prince, his voice calm. “He would not send anyone dangerous to become part of my household, no matter how skilled of a tutor you might be.” He reached into his robes and pulled out a revolver, and Remus watched him easily open the chamber and spill six bullets out into his other hand. He could only flinch at the bright smell that came from him, the scent of the metal unmistakable.

 Silver.

 “For another, should you prove yourself dangerous to one whom your wolf has claimed as pack, you would not live to see the moon set,” stated that calm voice, and the threat was somehow reassuring to Remus. One of the silver bullets were held up between long fingers as if the Crown Prince was examining the bullet in the light. “If you did manage to escape me, then you would be hunted and put down like a rabid dog, so you need not worry about harming anyone during the full moon.” The hidden face turned a bit more in his direction. “Have I made my stance quite clear, Remus John Lupin?”

 A strange laugh slipped out of Remus, and he clamped his hand over his mouth as he tried to get a handle on the sheer _relief_ that was flooding him. Never before had anyone threatened to kill him if he went wild during the full moon, even Dumbledore had only provided him a place to hide away. It was such a strange feeling to know that someone cared enough to make sure he was safe, even if it meant putting a bullet in his brain.

 “You have made your stance quite clear, Your Imperial Highness,” Remus said once he felt he was calm enough to answer without suddenly bursting into inappropriate laughter. “A potion master has asked for my assistance in refining the Wolfsbane Potion, and a mediwitch has offered her assistance, but it has been quite a while since I was able to afford a Healer’s appointment.”

 The Crown Prince inclined his head. “I will have the Healer examine you as well,” he stated before pointing a finger at Remus. “I will do things that may seem like charity to anyone who does not know me, but I take care of my house. If you are sick, you will not be able to help Harry or his friends. If you look like a charity case, then you will not receive the respect you deserve while also bringing down the reputation of my house, making it appear as if I don’t care about my people. Do you understand?”

 “Yes, sir,” stated Remus, realizing exactly what the Crown Prince was getting at. Things like a new wardrobe or bringing in a healer to see this health was the Crown Prince’s way of taking care of his employees while also showing society that he paid his employees well. “Whom else will I be tutoring?”

 The Crown Prince reloaded the revolver with the ease of one who was intimately familiar with the weapon before making it vanish beneath his robes again. Then he glanced over his shoulder and hodded at the man standing at the door who opened it to allow Harry to emerge with a large photo album clutched to his chest. “I was going to offer your services to Masters Ronald Weasley and Neville Longbottom and Miss Hermione Granger as they are Harry’s friends at school. We will be having tea with these three families tomorrow afternoon to give you time to settle in as well as have the tailor and healer see you both this afternoon.”

 Harry made a small face at that but his eyes returned to Remus. “I remember you,” he blurted before shrinking back a little. “There was also a big black dog and a man I didn’t like.”

 Remus nodded, a sad smile on his face as he scooted over a bit on the couch before patting the cushion next to him. “I’m Remus Lupin. You use to call me Unca Mooey, and the dog was Padfoot. The man was Peter Pettigrew, and no one knew why you didn’t like him.”

 With a grin, Harry scrambled up on the couch next to the man and opened his album, spreading it out over both of their laps. Remus smiled and began talking about two of his best friends with their son.


	9. Dan Granger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Grangers are invited to have tea with the Imperial Crown Prince and a few others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that there is no Special Army Regiment in the British Military, because after some research, I decided to make it up to give someone to help the Vatican.

Dr. Dan Granger tried very hard not to fidget as he and his family were stared at as they entered the very posh hotel. He was dressed in a nice suit while Emma was wearing a summer dress of a soft blue with a matching jacket and sunhat. Hermione was dressed similar to her mother but in a peach, and while the clothing was appropriate for a garden tea with the Queen, he hoped they would be good enough for tea with an Imperial Crown Prince. It had been quite a surprise to have an invitation delivered by messenger, but after talking it over with his family, they had made plans to have tea with the Crown Prince.

 “Welcome, Dr. Granger,” greeted a veiled figure as they were escorted into the suite, and Dan stepped forward to take the outstretched hand. The veil actually fell to just below the man’s nose to reveal the fangs in his mouth, but he had a feeling that they had somehow met before.

 “Thank you for the invitation, sir,” Dan replied with a small smile before he gestured towards his ladies. May I introduce my wife and partner, Emma, and our daughter, Hermione?”

 Both ladies gave a polite curtsey, and Prince Alexi Vradica chuckled and held out a hand to them both. “I admit that I have not heard much about either of you, but I have heard much about Miss Granger,” he confessed as they shook hands. “Please, rise and join us for tea.”

 In the large sitting room was the very definition of a Dowager Duchess next to a rather nervous boy, a family of seven redheads, and a nervous looking young boy with messy black hair. Vradica introduced the other people, and Dan realized that he was meeting his daughter’s friends from Hogwarts plus what he could only assume was one of her classmates.

 They all settled around the sitting area, and Vradica politely clapped his hands twice which caused a large tea tray to suddenly appear on the coffee table, and Dan had to admit that he jumped with a slight yelp. Hermione wasn’t allowed to do magic in their house so little displays of magic like that were still a surprise whenever they happened. Dowager Duchess Longbottom tutted at his yelp, but Vradica gave him an apologetic smile.

 The tea was nice with casual conversation that ranged from Muggle events to Magical events and even who was giving what garden party and which ones were the best to attend. After the first round of tea, the children, including the three older redheads, were sent to young Duke Potter’s room under the watchful eye of Paula, Vradica’s attractive social secretary and personal assistant.

 “I hoped to speak with all of you about an offer, but please let me know if I am overstepping my bounds,” Vradica stated, pouring another round of tea. “I have hired a tutor for Harry, both for his grades and for etiquette that is required for his station in life. As he has spoken fondly your children, I thought to offer them these lessons as well.”

 “Who have you hired to help with their grades?” inquired Dowager Longbottom.

 “Headmaster Dumbledore sent along someone he felt was qualified, and as I liked his qualifications, Remus Lupin was hired as tutor,” he announced before chuckling. “The face that he was friends with the late Duke and Duchess Potter was a bonus.”

 The Weasleys were looking a bit uncomfortable, and Dan wondered if there was a reason they didn’t want to accept but couldn’t without appearing rude. Was this part of Magical politics or was something else going on?

 “Would we be allowed to come and view the tutoring lessons from time to time, sir?” Emma inquired, a wistful look on her face. “Hermione is unable to practice magic at home, and what little we were shown when Professor McGonagall came to explain Hogwarts to Hermione made me wish to see more of this new world.”

 There was a soft laugh from Vradica, and Dan was once more struck by the familiarness of the Crown Prince. “That can definitely be arranged, Dr. Granger,” he said before turning slightly to look at the Weasleys. “This offer is not made out of a sense of charity, but because Harry considers young Ronald his friend. His first friend actually, and he’s reluctant to do anything that might make Ronald break off their friendship. As I am paying Mister Lupin the same for tutoring one student or six, it is no trouble to extend the offer of assistance to others.”

 “HOw often would this tutoring take place, sir?” inquired Arthur Weasley, looking a little more accepting of the offer. “And would any of our other children be allowed to attend beyond Ronald?”

 “The plan right now is for school tutoring Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning between breakfast and lunch, thus leaving the afternoon free to visit and have fun with friends,” Vradica remarked before humming, thoughtfully. “I would have to speak to Mr. Lupin to see if he would be willing to teach beyond the first year classes before I would be able to answer that correctly.”

 “And the etiquette lessons, sir?” Dowager Longbottom asked with a raised brow.

 “Tuesday and Thursday mornings at the same time,” Vradica said with a casual shrug, and Dan suddenly had the image of that same gesture but in clerical black trimmed in white instead of Imperial emerald and sapphire. As Vradica turned his head to reach for another tea cake, a lock of shining silver hair slid over his shoulder, and he absently flipped it back with a casual toss of his head. In an instant, Dan realized just who exactly Vradica was, or rather who was posing at him.

 Before Dan had been a dentist, he had been part of the Special Army Regiment, and his group had once been sent out to help back up a specific Vatican priest when it came to the location and detainment of a group of terrorists attached to the Fleur du Mal organization. The operation had gone as badly as any mission could possibly go, with the group deciding to blow up the building with everyone inside instead of surrender. To this day, he wasn’t sure how that priest had heard the faintest of clicks that announced the imminent destruction of the building, but he had and because of his bellowed warning, Dan hadn’t lost a single person that day. There had been some injuries that came from bits of the building falling on them, and Dan’s left knee ached in bad weather to this day, but because of Father Nightroad, they had lived to see another day.

 “Excuse me, sir, but could Hermione join in on those classes as well?” inquired Dan, trying to find a polite way to offer his help for whatever reason had brought a Vatican priest to this magical world in the guise of an Imperial Prince. “We have tried to instill good manners in her, but if she’s going to be a long term associate and friend of His Grace’s, it might be a good idea for her to learn how to act in a higher society than she’s use to.”

 “I will talk with Madame Melusine Valleroy to see if she is willing to take on others and will let you know,” came the reply before the veiled face turned to regard the others. “And if any of yours are interested as well.”

 The conversation drifted on at that point, and a few minutes later, the adults were gathering up the children to start heading towards their respective homes again. Dan hung back and let Emma gather Hermione, and when Arthur Weasley went to help his wife, Dan turned to face the veiled man, sticking out his hand.

 “I just wanted to thank you, sir, for your warning about thirteen years ago,” Dan said. “Saved the lives of me and my boys you did even if those terrorists prefered to blow themselves up instead of surrender.” He gave a small chuckle. “Daniel Granger, former Lieutenant of the Special Army Regiment, assigned to a liaison to help in the location and detainment of a group attached to the Fleur du Mal terrorist organization.”

 A bare long fingered hand came up and held his in a firm grip. “Perhaps after this mission is complete, we might get together and share a few drinks,” murmured the veiled man. “But for now, please keep Abel Nightroad a secret.”

 “Well, if you require any help at all, please don’t hesitate to call,” Dan stated, shaking that hand. “Least I can do for someone who’s done so much to help others.” He inclined his head before turning and joining Emma and Hermione at the door, and together, the three of them left the hotel. There was a slight bounce in Dan’s step, and he would probably explain everything later, but for now he was going to enjoy the possibility of helping someone who had once saved his life.


	10. Lucius Malfoy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garden Party Gone Bad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Discussion of boils and treatment.

The sun was shining and there was a soft breeze that kept the day from being sweltering, for which Lucius was grateful since weather charms could only do so much for the comfort of Narcissa’s guests. A large canopy was stretched between the trees in this section of the garden as well as back to the house to allow Alexi Vradica the freedom to move around as he wished instead of trapping him in one protected spot. There was an ever shifting crowd around him as nearly everyone at the garden party wished to speak to the Imperial Crown Prince and sound him out for various political stances as he had taken over Regency of Duke Potter’s estates.

 Over in the open field near the Quiddich Pitch, the laughter of children being children filled the air, and Lucius smiled slightly at the sound. While it was generally expected for children to behave themselves at the various garden parties, Narcissa had suggested a slight change in expected behavior, allowing the children to play under the watchful eyes of the House Elves. It had helped break down some barriers that had been created by being Sorted at Hogwarts and perhaps convince a few of the children to see things their way.

 The guest list this time around was more broad than their usual circle of acquaintances and political allies, including the Muggleborn Hermione Granger, her parents, the Patils, the Lovegoods, and the Dowager Countess Longbottom and her grandson. Narcissa only mentioned in passing that the Imperial Crown Prince wished to meet many of Duke Potter’s school friends and their families, and she would be a poor hostess to not include her guest’s friends. Lucius had been a bit wary about having Vradica at the estate when he realized that the prince came with an Auror escort, but the three Aurors had simply gone to where Vradica’s bodyguard had pointed them and set up watch.

 A slight tug at Lucius’ throat pulled him out of his thoughts, and he followed the tugging of the invisible leash towards his wife. The ‘Come Hither’ spell was quite handy especially during large gathering when Narcissa was playing hostess and she needed him for something. Or just wanted him. He paused by the refreshment table long enough to get a glass of mint water if only to have something in his hand before he joined Narcissa over by a tree. She had a small, polite smile on her face as she listened to Sir Reginald Cyril Horncastle drone on about his aphid infestation on his grandmother’s prize winning roses.

 “Forgive me for interrupting, Sir, Reginald, but a few of our guests are hoping to speak with Narcissa,” Lucius remarked, offering his wife a smile and his arm.

 “Of course, far be it for me to keep such a delightful hostess from her guests,” the pompous man said with a bow before wandering off to find some other unsuspecting victim to corner.

 Narcissa waited until he was out of earshot before giving a small sigh of relief and raising on her toes far enough to brush a kiss against Lucius’ cheek. “My hero,” she murmured. “I thought I would _never_ get away from him.”

 “Then you should have called for me earlier,” chided Lucius as he lead her farther under the canopy. She simply huffed at him, and he chuckled, enjoying her minor irritation. It wasn’t often that he could cause such a reaction from his wife. A few more steps and she started steering him towards the veiled figure of Alexi Vradica, and he realized that he was apparently heading for a longer conversation than the polite greeting they had exchanged earlier. Since the accidental meeting in Gilded Avenue, there had not been much of a chance for Lucius to interact with Vradica mostly due to his increased attention at the Wizengamot as he worked on his little list of tasks. He actually had a gentlemen’s tea scheduled with some of the ‘Old Crowd’ in a few weeks to discuss a few of the old prejudices.

 It had been quite easy to accept the payment required from Lord Lucifer in exchange for the removal of the Dark Mark, and it was so strange not to feel the constant low level ache in his left arm. Of course, Lord Lucifer had decided to remind both Lucius and Severus who owned their true allegiance, and skin that once held the Dark Mark was now covered in a twisting band of runes in a mix of orange, red, and yellow, looking as if they were on fire. It was certainly a work of art and much more tasteful than the serpent and skull brand he had carried with him for far too long.

 Just as they reached Vradica, there was a loud almost insane bellow, and Lucius whirled around, trying to find out where the source of the yell was as well as what was happening. He caught a flicker of light that was a spell being cast out of the corner of his eye right before a solid body slammed into him, sending him staggering into Narcissa as they both fell the the ground. There was an almost animalistic snarl that accompanied the very familiar sound of breaking bones, and Lucius scrambled out from under the heavy body that turned out to be Vradica as he drew his wand.

 The three Aurors had someone face down on the ground as Petros stood over them with a grim look on his face, and Lucius glanced at Narcissa to find a look of determination on her face even as she half covered Vradica with her wand out. She looked up at him with a grim look but nodded, indicating that she had the prince protected, and Lucius nodded once before marching over to where the Aurors were thoroughly searching the man. At first glance, it looked like Gregory Goyle Sr had taken leave of his senses to attack either himself or Vradica, but Lucius knew the actual Goyle was laid up, dealing with boils down one arm where a bubotuber plant had exploded on him.

 “That is not Mr. Goyle,” Lucius remarked as he drew close to them, his wand casually held in his hand. “Mr. Goyle is at home, having to deal with the complications of having a bubotuber plant explode on his arms, and he extended his apologies at being unable to attend mere minutes before the first guest arrived.”

 “Then he is either under an illusion or polyjuiced,” grunted one of the Aurors as a flailing foot connected with his leg.

 “Either way, the defensive wards activated the second a hostile spell came within ten feet of my direction,” Lucius stated. “No one is able to Portkey or Apparate in or out of the grounds for as long as they are active, and the Floo automatically closed. If you require any further assistance of your comrades, I will open the Floo connection for you.”

 “Might, but better check on your lady and the prince to make sure a healer isn’t needed,” the Auror remarked just as the third one managed to get cuffs on twisting wrists.   
  
Lucius caught Petros raising a discreet hand to his ear before the large man grunted and turned his attention back on the Aurors. “A healer will be required. The Crown Prince has broken out in a bad case of boils and his legs are broken in two places at least,” he rumbled, and Lucius managed to suppress a shiver at the growl in those words, as if the voice speaking them should come from someone much larger than Petros. “When he is able to travel, we will relocate him to his suite at Le Chambre.”

 “Nonsense. I offer shelter for you and the prince until such a time as he has recovered from his ordeal here,” Lucius stated, feeling the prodding of Honor. This attack happened on his land to one of his guests, therefore it was his responsibility to provide services and shelter until the victim had recovered.

 “I will have to extend your offer to the prince before any decision can be made about this,” Petros stated with a dark frown. “He has many responsibilities that will not wait simply because he has been injured by a couple of spells.”

 Lucius inclined his head. “For now, let us get him to a bedroom where the healer can tend to him.”

 Petros nodded once, a tight jerky action that showed far more restraint than anything else, and he turned on a heel, marching back towards Narcissa and Vradica. Lucius looked at the Aurors who were exchanging their own glances before the talkative one looked at Lucius. “Do you have somewhere we can secure the prisoner until we can get word to Director Bones?”

 “Of course. Part of the wine cellar was remade into cells during a few of the more disagreeable conflicts in the past,” Lucius said before summoning a House Elf. “Tipsy will escort you down there and ensure the prisoner is unable to escape should the worst happen.”

 Lucius didn’t wait for a reply as he hurried back to where Narcissa was levitating Vradica with her wand while both of Vradica’s personal servants had a sort of resigned expression on their faces as they stared at each other. Lucius focused on Narcissa as the two continued their silent discussion.

 “I’ll escort His Imperial Highness to the Sapphire Room while you see to our guests and get our healer in to help him,” Lucius said, easily taking over the _Mobilicorpus_ spell from her. From the tight pinch around her mouth, he was sure someone was going to get the sharp edge of her tongue before the day was done, and he nearly pitied the one who did. Lucius glanced at the two servants before clearing his throat. “One of you may wish to inform His Grace what has happened.”

 Not looking back, Lucius casually entered the manor house and quickly made his way up to the guest room that was at the head of the stairs. While not a good place for a defense, it was ideal for one who would have many guests visiting for one reason or another. The room itself was rich without being ostentatious if a bit bland with sapphire blue rug, curtains, and bedclothes with beech wood to contrast, but it was on the north side of the manor so no sunlight would sneak in past the curtains.

 The covers had already been turned down, and Lucius carefully lowered Vradica to the sheets. “How can I make you comfortable?”

 Vradica growled and bowed his head. “For one thing, I would ask an oath that you will never talk to anyone about what I look like without my permission,” he stated, his voice slightly strained, and Lucius had to wonder just how much pain he was in. “There is a reason why none outside a trusted few know what my sister and I look like.”

 “Very well,” Lucius stated before giving the Oath, and he watched as hands that only trembled slightly removed the coronet and the veil, revealing a face covered with boils, nearly swelling blue eyes shut. Lucius swore slightly and moved forward, his wand flicking through the air as he started carefully removing the prince’s clothes to reveal more and more boil covered skin. “Merlin and Morgana! I’m going to _flay_ that moron for this!”

 “Not if my sister gets to him first,” Vradica said, humor in his voice even if it didn’t show on his face. Lucius figured it would probably hurt to smile or move much of his face. He took a slow, deep breath before closing his eyes. “There will undoubtedly be much revealed during the course of my recovery, and I would ask your discretion for anything you either hear directly or accidentally overhear.”

 Before Lucius could reply, Petros and Paula entered the room, took one look at Vradica before they faced each other with fists extended. “One, two, three!” they chanted, bouncing their fists before Petros kept his fist clenched as Paula threw out two fingers, and Lucius was surprised at the absolutely filthy swears that came from Paula.

 Petros snorted. “Be glad you’re only letting the Eternal Mother know instead of Cat,” he drawled. “Frankly, I don’t want either here, but at least the Empress will leave some of that poor bastard alive for the rest of us.”

 Paula snarled and poked Petros’ chest. “Just for _that_ threat, no sex for a week!” she declared before storming out of the room. “I hope you’ll be happy with your hand!”

 “I’ve heard that threat before,” sighed Petros before moving over to the bed to frown at Vradica. “How bad?”

 “Femur is broken along with both the tibia and fibula in both legs,” Vradica reported, and Lucius had to wonder just how the prince knew how much damage was done to him without an official scan. “It doesn’t feel as if the boils are in my throat as breathing isn’t any more difficult, but they are _everywhere_ including on my scalp and the soles of my feet.” He sighed and very slowly shook his head. “A few of them have already popped just from the weight of my clothes as well as trying to form under the coronet, and this whole thing is going to make me want to give our friend a lovely blood eagle as a parting gift.”

 “It’s going to be a long recovery because Skelegrow interacts badly with the usual boil creams,” Petros pointed out before giving Vradica a telling look. “Unless…”

 “No, because while that may help the bones, it wouldn’t help the boils,” Vradica said, his voice firm as he answered whatever unasked question Petros had. “And they’re still on the bottom of my feet which makes for highly uncomfortable walking.” Those blue eyes turned towards Lucius. “I apologize now, Lord Malfoy, if your home is suddenly invaded by my sister and a few of her retainers.”

 Lucius offered a small bow. “I only wish your beloved sister was visiting under more pleasant circumstances,” he remarked, turning towards the door as an elderly man came bustling in, lead by Narcissa.

 Narcissa turned to Petros. “Duke Potter is pacing in the living room with Draco and the families of his close friends,” she stated. “They are remaining behind as support for him during this time. If you wish to see to him, I will remain in the room with Healer Atwood.”

 Petros shook his head. “I thank you for the offer, but Paula will deal with him. I will remain with His Imperial Highness.”

 “Well, the three main bones in each leg are broken, and you’ve been hit by a very severe boils curse, young man,” grumbled the old man after waving his wand around a bit. “Most boils form on the hair follicles, but you have them in places where there is no hair. From what I can tell, the boil curse hit you first to distract you long enough for the leg breaker curse. I’ll write you a prescription for a cream that will help them heal, but you’re going to be living in a hot bath until all of them are drained. I may be able to get you a pain potion, but I don’t know how well it will work for you since you are nothing like I have seen before.”

 “Is there a counter that would help speed his recovery along?” inquired Narcissa, a thoughtful frown on her face.

 Atwood shook his head. “The Imperial Crown Prince is like _nothing_ I have ever seen before,” he stated with his own thoughtful frown. “He has just enough magic to not be a Squib but not enough to be trained, and yet despite coming from the Empire, I have never encountered a Methuselah like him.”

 “Potion Master Snape is a close family friend, and he will be able to make any potions or lotions required, Healer Atwood,” Narcissa stated.

 Atwood nodded. “Once the boils on the legs have been tended to, splint them with a padding of bandages to allow them to heal on their own. The breaks were clean and the bones didn’t shift enough to require weights to shift them back into place. I’ll be back in two weeks to check on him if there are no complications.”

 Narcissa nodded and escorted Healer Atwood out of the room again, and Vradica made a disgusted sound. “Petros, go down and find out who was the actual target for this attack,” Vradica ordered. “Lord and Lady Malfoy were standing right next to me when the spells were fired. Also, find out if this was personal or political, because there’s a Wizengamot session next week with some new laws on the agenda. If he won’t talk, apply a little… _knightly_ persuasion.”

 That got a dark chuckle from Petros. “I believe I will enjoy this a great deal,” he rumbled before the humor faded from his face. “And young Harry?”

 “I would rather he not see me looking like this, but he will need the reassurance that I am fine,” sighed Vradica. “Paula can escort him and the Grangers up to visit briefly before I talk to him about what to do while I’m recovering.”

 Nodding, Petros left the room, and Vradica carefully placed his hands over his face before indulging in some lengthy and rather hair-curling swears that would have made a Knockturn Alley thug blush from embarrassment. Lucius politely left him to his swearing to slip into the attached bathroom and start a hot bath in the sunken, Roman style tub. He activated the privacy ward and the heating spell on the tub once the water was steaming nicely before he returned to the bed.

 “My apologies for my rude language, Lord Malfoy,” Vradica said with a soft sigh. “I should not have vented my irritation at the situation in such a crass manner in your presence or your home.”

 “If you had been my wife, Your  Imperial Highness, I would undoubtedly be repairing numerous objects that had impacted the walls with a great deal of force,” remarked Lucius, waving the apology aside even as he levitated Vradica once more. “I have a bath waiting for you and the privacy ward is active so you need not worry about your modesty when it comes to any female visitors.”

 The moan of relief that came from Vradica sent a pleasant shiver down Lucius’ spine, and he briefly wondered what Vradica would look like lost in his pleasure before forcefully pushing those thoughts aside. Vradica was completely covered in boils, including in some rather delicate spots that would make any sort of pleasurable activities highly painful in a not fun way. Lucius would take this time to get to know Vradica better, possibly sway him into standing with Lucius on some political issues, and perhaps even get an official alliance between the House Malfoy and the House Vradica. He would even accept an alliance with House Potter as he hadn’t heard of an official alliance between House Potter and House Weasley.

 Ancient Blood Feuds could be quite annoying to political and personal alliances.


	11. Seth Nightlord, the Eternal Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Empress arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More discussion of boils and treating them.

Seth Nightlord, better known to the worlds as Empress  Augusta Vradica and the Eternal Mother, was holding onto her temper by the slimmest of margins. Paula had contacted her about a quarter of an hour ago, telling her that Abel had been involved in an attack against the hosts of a garden party he had been attending, and a Healer had been sent for while the attacker had been secured with a couple of Auror guards. It was unknown if Abel had been the target or if the Malfoys had been, but Petros was staying with Abel at the moment.

 Someone had hurt her brother, and that person would pay and pay dearly. By the time Seth was done with them, they would be begging for death just to have the peace of the grave. The Court Coven had easily been able to transport her, Astharoshe Asran who was wearing a short lived protection amulet to shield her from the harmful effects of the sun, and a dozen of her guards to just outside the wards of Malfoy Manor before a House Elf had appeared. Now they were just waiting on being allowed into the ground themselves, but if Malfoy thought to keep her from Abel, she would show just how much she knew about wards and their stability.

 Everything shattered under the right frequency of sound. Even wards.

 The gates swung open, and Seth walked towards the manor, determination in every line as the others easily kept up with her. The door opened just as she reached it to reveal a beautiful blonde in elegant and tastefully cut robes who curtsied to her.

 “It is a delight and honor to host you and your company, Your Imperial Majesty,” the woman said, closing the door behind the last guard. “If you will follow me, I will escort you, Duke Potter, and the Granger family up to your brother.”

 Seth glanced over to find a skinny boy with dark messy hair holding hands with a girl with bushy hair barely tamed, and an older couple that were obviously the girl’s parents. She flicked a finger at her guards and two of them moved over to stand behind the quartet while her other guards filed back out of the manor to spread out around the property. Astha remained at Seth’s shoulder, the Spear of Gae Bolg held in one hand, and Seth inclined her head to the woman.

 “Please escort us, Lady Malfoy,” Seth stated, starting towards the blonde who turned and lead the way farther into the house. “Do you know the full extent of my brother’s injuries?”

 “He was struck by a leg breaking curse right after a curse of boils,” Lady Malfoy explained, starting up the stairs. “The healer has seen to him, but other than prescribe a cream to help the boils heal after they have burst and a painkiller, there is unfortunately nothing that can be done.”

 Set was certain that she could do a bit more for Abel once she saw the full extent of the problem, but she nodded in understanding. “And the one who attacked him?”

 “In one of the cells in our cellar, madame,” Lady Malfoy said, pushing open the door, and Seth moved right to where she could hear the soft splashing of water. She huffed as she stopped at the door and shook her head at the sight of her brother sitting in the bathtub even if she couldn’t see anything beneath the water.

 “Right, who do I kill?” she drawled, crossing her arms as she walked over to him and ignoring the _other_ attractive blond in the room. Abel jumped and turned to look at her with eyes as wide as they could be with the boils on his face. Trust her brother to be hit with a boil curse and still come out looking attractive. “And how thorough is that curse?”

 “Petros went down to get answers before you arrived,” Abel replied, not moving his mouth much. “And I have boils on every inch of skin. Even on the bottom of my feet which I didn’t think was possible.” He grimaced slightly. “And the three major bones in both legs are broken, but it’s a clean break.”

 Seth nodded in what he wasn’t saying. Even if his legs were healed, he wouldn’t be able to walk until after the boils had burst and been wrapped because even their accelerated healing couldn’t deal with what was essentially a bacterial infection immediately. She stepped to one side and allowed those behind her into the room, and she wasn’t surprised when the young man stopped in the doorway and paled. She tilted her head towards the young duke since he wouldn't see her reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, young Harry. Alexi will recover and be pestering you about your lessons soon enough.”

 Wide green eyes looked up at her, and she was struck at how closely his coloration matched her own. “Um, thank you, Your Imperial Majesty. Alexi has told me some about you.”

 Just then, Petros reentered the room with a satisfied but dark look on his face. He paused at the sight of Seth before bowing. “Eternal Mother,” he greeted before straightening. “The person claimed that his target was Lord Malfoy as he was seen as a traitor to the Dark Lord. Paula is out prowling the property now to ensure that he was the only one. Master Rosier was not forthcoming with the details of his plans.” He offered them a small smirk. “His polyjuice potion ran out, and I recognized him from the old wanted posters from after the last Blood War.”

 “But I thought Evan Rosier was killed by Auror Moody,” mused Lady Malfoy, a frown on her face.

 “This was the father who had vanished at some point,” Petros remarked, inclining his head towards her. “He was never caught, simply named by Igor Karkaroff when he received a lesser sentencing.”

 Lord Malfoy hummed, a tiny frown on his face. “Regardless of who he is, he came to our home as an invited guest despite the false face he presented. Upon attacking us, he has broken the Rules of Hospitality and thus, we retract our protection and cast him out of our shelter. May Magic have mercy on him for we will have none.”

 There was a faint pulse that rippled through the air, and Seth inclined her head. “Lord and Lady Malfoy, may I ask for a few minutes with my brother alone? I have a few things to discuss with him.”

 “Of course, madam,” Lady malfoy stated with a small curtsey. “If you should need us for any reason whatsoever, we shall be in the front drawing room.”

 “Harry, why don’t you and the Grangers go with them?” suggested Abel, looking at the young duke. “Perhaps you can sit down and compare your worlds to see which spots are better than others. Make it a game comparing the Magical item to it’s Muggle equivalent.”

 The girl nodded and tugged on the young man’s arm. “It will be interesting, Harry. We’ll get Heir Malfoy to play with us.”

 Seth watched as the group of magicals left the room, shutting the door firmly behind them before she knocked her hat and veil onto the floor and rolled up her sleeves. “You look horrible, and I do plan on taking out a pound of flesh from this guy before I head back to make myself feel better,” she drawled, kneeling next to the tub and carefully running her fingers through his hair to feel the protrusions hiding there. “What were you thinking, jumping in front of an unknown spell?”

 “That I had to save the Malfoys from whatever it was,” Abel replied, carefully not flinching under her fingers. “The Morrigan’s taken an interest in this mission, Seth, and directed me to Lady Malfoy for assistance.”

 “Lucky you. Two hot blonds willing to help,” she teased and was delighted to see a small blush on his cheeks.

 “Well, it’s going to be a while before _anything_ happens considering my dick looks just as bad as my face does,” he countered, getting a slight wince from Petros. “Harry knows who I am by the way.”

 Seth hummed and gently poked at a few boils, grimacing when a couple popped. She pulled some gauze out of a pouch she always carried to soak up the puss. “You thought it wise to tell him?”

 “He has not had many reasons to trust adults in his life, Seth. I had to lay my cards on the table to start building that trust that he offered me when I got him out from under his previous guardians,” Abel stated, tilting his head back to look at her. “I don’t want to give him a reason to distrust me at all.”

 “Did you tell him about your Crusnik abilities?” she inquired, focusing on tending him. She figured Abel was going to keep those abilities under wraps until he had to tell his new fosterling about them because too many people in Abel’s life had been afraid when faced with a fanged and glowing red eyed version of the gentle man they had come to know.

 He sighed, his head dropping to stare into the eddies of water that swirled around him. “Not yet. I’ve been working on getting him settled as well as arrange for tutors to help him with everything he needs to know to be a duke. We’re still living at Le Chamber because there hasn’t been time to find another place to live.”

 Seth snorted and shook her head. Trust her brother to look at the immediate needs instead of the longer term ones. “You just need to delegate more,” she drawled before tapping him on the face in the one clear spot she found. “Heal those legs, and then I’ll see what I can do for your boils.”

 She watched as Abel closed his eyes before he shifted in the water, What skin she could see through the boils paled to white as his lips blackened and a pair of fangs peeked out from between them. Petros huffed and managed to grab the long silver hair as it suddenly rose up to sway above his head like a lost soul and have the unfortunate side effect of tossing water about, and he twisted it into a messy bun that he held in place with a pointed stick he pulled out of a pocket. Just as she was about to say something, there were loud cracks, and Abel hissed in relief and delight as he opened his eyes to reveal solid red and glowing orbs.

 Astha moved over and knelt next to the tub, rolling up a sleeve to offer her wrist. “Here, _tovarish_ , you are probably hungry.”

 Instead of pulling her wrist to his mouth, Abel leaned forward and sank his fangs into her skin, trusting her not to move while he fed. Seth grimaced slightly as a few of the boils around his mouth popped, but there wasn’t anything she could do for that at the moment. She moved over to stand next to Petros. “Would you object if I left Astha with you as a backup guard?”

 Petros frowned slightly. “We have some Aurors and Unspeakables helping us with the Voldemort situation, and I know Abel can handle himself in a crisis, but for appearances sake, one of us has to remain with him,” he murmured before looking at the Imperial Investigator who appeared unconcerned that she was feeding someone her blood. Seth didn’t know too many of her people that would allow such an action to occur without dire straights or a serious gain to themselves happening, but she was very happy that Astha only saw it as taking care of her very dear friend. Then Petros spoke again, snapping her out of her thoughts. “It would be appreciated to have the Duchess of Kiev and Countess of Odessa assisting us when we need to be away from him, but will you not require her skills in your court?”

 “There are not that many investigations that would require her currently going on,” Seth stated with a shrug. “The Court can spare her for a while. You just need to learn to delegate more as well.” She turned and walked back to the tub, reaching out to gently pull Astha away from Abel. “That’s enough, Astha. Any more and you’ll be joining Abel in bed because you’ll both be unconscious.”

 Astha chuckled even as she moved over to sit next to the wall, her wrist cradled in her lap in an unconscious effort to not move an injured limb any more than necessary despite the fact that the injury was healed before she had even settled. “No offense to my _tovarish_ but I prefer my bed partners to have fewer curves than I do.”

 “No offense taken, Astha,” rumbled Abel, closing his eyes and trying to relax in the water. “I don’t enjoy having this many curves myself.”  A few moments more, and his appearance had returned to normal, unfortunately still with the boils.

 Seth huffed and shook her head as she washed her hands in the nearby sink. “All right. I’m going to go talk with the Malfoys to see if it would be all right for you to stay here until you’re healed up from those, because right now, you’re a bit helpless because you can’t fly everywhere.”

 “And even if I could, my back would ache more if I brought my wings out,” he huffed, and Seth tried not to laugh because she was just as bad when she had to be laid up for any reason. Being a Crusnik meant that any injury could be healed instantaneously with some donated blood, as was evident by his no longer broken legs. Boils however, were a bacterial infection, and while it may not take the full month for him to recover, he was still going to be rather isolated for that length of time.

 Scooping up her hat, she settled it back on her head and made sure the veil was hanging as it should have been before she went in search of the owners of the manor. She didn’t have to look long as she could hear the children's voices raised in excitement as they chatted between themselves on the topic of fire calling versus magic mirrors versus telephones. When she arrived at the room, it was to find the adults standing off to one side having a quiet and civil conversation while the three children were gathered around the coffee table where ink, quills, and parchment were spread with various scribblings on it, apparently to help describe the different wonders of their respective worlds. In a flash, Seth realized that this could be the future of the Wizarding World if enough people got their heads outta their asses and took a good look around them. It wouldn’t be an easy transition for either side, but for peaceful scenes like this, where children could interact no matter the station of their birth while people from two different worlds carried on conversations, it would be worth the fight.

 “Forgive my interruption,” began Seth, approaching the adults who turned to give her respectful bows and curtsies. “But I have a favor to ask of you, Lord and Lady Malfoy.”

 “Of course, if it is within our abilities to grant it,” Lord Malfoy said without hesitation.

 “I would ask that my brother remain under your roof to be cared for by those that you trusted until he has been healed of his current ailments,” Seth said, knowing just how much she was asking of them at the moment. “As a stranger to your lands, he does not know those who would be able to help him and those that would approach him simply to use his name to further their own goals.”

 Lady Malfoy smiled and briefly hid her mouth behind her hand, smothering a soft giggle as Lord Malfoy spoke. “As we had already extended our hospitality to Crown Prince Alexi and his entourage, I am afraid you shall have to ask for something else, Eternal Mother.”

 Well, that was certainly unexpected, but Seth would do a few tasks Abel had let slide for the moment. “Very well. If I may beg your indulgence, Lord Malfoy, to escort me to Gilded Avenue, I need to attend to a few things Alexi hasn’t had a chance to achieve just yet.”

 “It would be my honor and privilege, madame,” Lord Malfoy said with a low bow to her. “Allow me time to ensure that the Aurors will be escorting the prisoner off of the grounds, and then I will be at your disposal.”

 Seth inclined her head before looking at the children who were watching with a mix of hopeful and curious gazes. “Alexi will undoubtedly be grumpy while he heals. He was never any good on bed rest the rare times he was required to be on it.”

 A determined look appeared on young Harry’s face, and Seth knew that he would do what he could to keep Abel from being too grumpy while he healed. “I am assigning Astharoshe Asran to Alexi’s guard detail to help relieve some of the pressure on his current retinue. She has my full trust with his safety and health.”

 “She will be as honored a guest in our home as the prince is,” Lady Malfoy remarked before clapping her hands. A House Elf appeared at the summons and looked at her with large eyes. “Prepare the guest chambers across and beside the Sapphire Room for Lady Asran, Duke Potter, and the Crown Prince’s guards.”

 The House Elf nodded and popped away without saying anything, and Seth inclined her head to them before looking past to the children again. She motioned for Harry to join them, and he did with the girl and Heir Malfoy trailing along behind him. “Forgive my inattentiveness to you earlier, Your Grace, but welcome to the family.”

 “Thank you, Eternal Mother,” Harry said, his words coming out a bit hesitant but he didn’t stutter at all which impressed her. “And you have nothing to apologize for. He’s your brother.”

 She had to admit that Harry’s words sounded a bit odd coming from an only child, especially one with his background of mistrust and abuse from the only relatives he knew, but they were heartfelt. She made a promise to herself right then that she would do everything she could to ensure he had a long and happy life. She nodded to his companions. “Will you introduce me to your friends?”

 “This is Draco Malfoy, Heir of the Marquis of Malfoy,” Harry began, gesturing to the other boy who bowed with a polite ‘Eternal Mother’, before Harry tossed the girl a small smile. “And this is Miss Hermione Granger, one of my best friends.”

 “A pleasure to meet you, Your Imperial Majesty,” the girl said with a credible curtsey.

 “It is a delight to meet my nephew’s friends,” Seth remarked, noticing Harry twitch slightly at the title, but she was not going to be like his other aunt. She was going to be the sort of aunt that spoiled the child before sending them back to their caretaker, because she could. After all, what was the point of ruling an Empire if she couldn’t spoil her family? “I look forward to getting to know all of you better.”

 “May we write to you, madam?” inquired Miss Granger, her eyes sparkling with delight and not a little bit of excitement.

 Seth grinned behind her veil and inclined her head. “I look forward to corresponding with you all after we have parted,’ she said, wondering how long it would take for this curious witch to write her and how long the correspondence would be. “If you will excuse me for a few minutes, I will check up on my brother while Lord Malfoy sees to the Aurors and their prisoner.”

 As much as she wanted to take a couple pounds of flesh out of Rosier, she couldn’t indulge in that before the Aurors took him into custody. However, she could ask the Wizengamot to allow her a few minutes with the prisoner after he was sentenced and before that was carried out. She knew of one way to possibly help Abel recover a bit faster, but it involved silver ion. While silver wasn’t as deadly to them as it was to Methuselah, it was still irritating and uncomfortable when it got into an open wound.

 Returning to the bathroom, Seth was surprised to see Astha was sitting next to the tub and combing his hair out as he dozed in the warm water. It was almost unfair at how attractive Abel was, even when suffering from a face covered in boils, and Seth managed to push back the bolt of lust that raced through her. She couldn’t be what Abel wanted or needed because she was too busy with her Empire. Unfortunately Astha was dedicated to her position as Imperial Investigator or Seth would shove them together to see if they would be happy together.

 “The Malfoys will be hosting everyone until he recovers completely,” Seth announced when Astha looked up. “You will be remaining to assist Petros with my brother’s security and stay with him when Petros and the others have to leave for various tasks. There are no tasks waiting for you at Court so you will be free to help here.”

 Abel hummed and opened his eyes to look at Seth. “And what do you plan on doing before heading back to the Empire?” he asked before offering a small smile. “You can’t spend all of your time torturing Rosier.”

 “I’m going to be handling some things that you have overlooked,” she stated. “You can’t stay in a hotel for your entire time here, but I know you won’t be happy in a mansion. I’ll check with your goblin account manager to see if there is a suitable place for you to reside before going over the security of such a place. I’ll also have all of your things packed at Le Chamber and sent over. Is there anything I should know?”

 “Harry’s tutor, Remus Lupin, is also staying with us there since he didn’t have anywhere else to go, being a werewolf,” Abel said. “He gives lessons to Harry, Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Neville Longbottom three times a week. There is also an etiquette teacher who comes twice a week, Madame Valleroy. Lupin’s lessons may have to be set up elsewhere as the Malfoys and the Weasleys have an Ancient Blood Feud between their houses.” He huffed and carefully shook his head. “There’s also a temporary war room with a trunk holding files about Death Eaters and any other information that might be needed to bring down Voldemort. That will have to be moved and set up a new one for the team.”

 Seth flicked her fingers. “I’ll get everything set up for you. You work on getting healed,” she stated before offering a wry smile. “I was thinking some silver ion cream for your feet if nothing else. Be irritating and uncomfortable, but it will help them heal faster.”

 “The Malfoys were going to talk with a potion master they knew about for the cream the healer prescribed,” Abel stated. “You may want to talk to them to see what sort of cream it will be. Also, the healer had been to the Empire and stated that I was like nothing he had ever seen, human or Methuselah. I hadn’t realized that a magical scan could tell so much about us.”

 “I’ll take care of that as well,” Seth reassured him, planning on having a talk with the healer to make sure that there wouldn’t be any loose lips spreading things that were better left lost to time. She bent down and placed a sisterly kiss on his face. “You concentrate on getting better and leave everything else to me and your entourage. Consider that an order from both your sister and your doctor.”

 Abel grumbled slightly, but Seth didn’t take it seriously as she left the room to find the Marquis of Malfoy and get started on her little to do list.


	12. Lucius Malfoy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emergency session at the Wizengamot.

Lucius made his way through the Ministry of Magic, easily keeping pace with Alexi Vradica who was being levitated by Auror Shacklebolt. It had only been about a week since the attack at the Malfoy Garden party, and while the bones in his legs had healed at a surprising rate, Vradica was still covered in now open sores, making walking painful. He had joked about just needing to get a pyramid set up for him to wander around due to the bandages wrapped around him to keep the cream on the sores, and Narcissa had laughed herself silly when Duke Potter and his friends had managed to construct a nemes crown out of blue and gold fabric with a little hissing cobra at the top before presenting it with great solumness to Vradica. He in turn, had been wearing it whenever the children had been there, completing his mummified look, and Lucius was glad to see that Vradica wasn’t allowing himself to be depressed at essentially being trapped in one place.

 The Wizengamot chamber was rather full and getting more crowded as more members of the Wizengamot entered to either claim their seats or cluster in knots of alliances to talk. Possibly to see why the full session had been called since such a thing was reserved for the most heinous of crimes such as murder or line theft, yet Lucius had not heard of either of those crimes from his own political allies. As he moved to the Malfoy box, he noticed there was a lot of confused and puzzled looks from not only his own allies but those normally associated with Dumbledore’s supporters. That made him worried because it meant that whatever was going on, neither side was behind it, and an unknown third party could be trouble for either or both sides.

 “Thank you for your help, Auror Shacklebolt,” Vradica said as he was settled into the Potter box which was ironically situated between the Malfoy box and the Longbottom one. “I certainly hope that whatever reason we are all here is quickly resolved so I might return to my sarcophagus.”

 “It is good to see you doing better, Your Imperial Highness,” Dowager Longbottom remarked, running a critical eye over the prince as if she could see beneath the concealing veil and clothes. “My grandson mentioned something about a new crown to better fit your circumstances?”

 Vradica chuckled. “Harry and his friends heard me joking about moving into a pyramid so they put together a nemes crown with a cobra on it,” he explained with a gentle shake of his head. “It was quite ingenious as the cobra actually hissed and swayed. Lady Malfoy found it quite amusing to see me wear it when she came in to assist me.”

 Dowager Longbottom gave a harumph at such silliness but there was a small smile playing around her lips, indicating that she wasn’t as disapproving as she first appeared to. “I take it you have no idea why we are here, Lord Malfoy?”

 “I am as ignorant of the reason as you are, Lady longbottom,” Lucius replied with a polite incline of his head. “I believe, however, that it is the machinations of a third party as neither of us have been approached by our respective sides to be sounded out for our vote.”

 Before she could reply, Dumbledore tapped his wand on his lectern, getting everyone’s attention and they settled in their seats. Lucius folded his hands in his lap as he sat back in his own seat, hoping that this would be brief for Vradica’s sake.

 “Now that we are all here, if whomever summoned us would step forward and explain just _why_ we were forced to interrupt our plans, that would be lovely,” announced Dumbledore, looking around the room. Many others were also looking around, hoping that whomever it was would step forward and start talking, and Lucius frowned faintly as Senior Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge stood up from where she was sitting, a folder in her hands. With slow, deliberate movements, she walked to the center podium, obviously enjoying the full attention of the Wizengamot, and she took a few moments to settle her papers, much to the growing irritation of everyone else.

 “Hem, hem,” began Umbridge, raising her head to look around the room. “This emergency session of the Wizengamot has been called due to evidence that there is a person here who has illegally assumed Regency of an Ancient and Noble House as well as gained custody of the True Heir.”

 Stunned silence filled the chamber, and Lucius barely managed to keep the shock off of his face. Such accusations were as serious as Line Theft and never made lightly. Heads were starting to turn as everyone tried to figure out who Umbridge was talking about, but Lucius knew that she would announce who it was in a few moments now that she had everyone’s full attention.

 “I call for the arrest of the one claiming to be Imperial Crown Prince Alexi Vradica on the following charges,” announced Umbridge, her voice ringing out through the chamber. “Impersonating an Imperial noble, illegal representation of the Empire, illegally assuming Regency of the Ancient and Noble Houses of Gryffindor and Potter, illegally gaining custody of Duke Potter, Heir of the Ancient and Noble Houses of Gryffindor and Potter, and consorting with Dark creatures to destabilize the security of our world.” She turned and smirked at Vradica. “Custody of Duke Potter will be granted to a Ministry approved family while the Regency of his Wizengamot seats will be given to a Ministry approved employee. Aurors, arrest him.”

 “I am rather curious to know what your evidence is, madam,” Vradica said, sounding completely unconcerned and unruffled. “And if you believe I am not Alexi Vradica, who am I?”

 Umbridge began pulling out certain papers. “There has never been any evidence of a Crown Prince in the Empire,” she stated, holding up one that looked like a picture at a distance. “None of my contacts in the Empire have ever hears of such an individual, and no picture of the Empress has ever shown a Crown Prince.” Her sickly sweet voice grew even more smug. “The fact that no one has ever seen the face of the Empress is one you have used to your advantage by hiding behind a veil. As to your true identity, what does it matter? You are a criminal and  deserve to be treated as such.”

 A hum came from Vradica as he tilted his head. “So it is your claim that because I wear a veil to hide my identity that I am a criminal,” summarized the Crown Prince, sounding almost amused. “I suppose that if I chose to unveil myself, revealing my face to everyone, these charges would be dropped.” He shook his head. “No, of course not. It is not me you are after but Duke Potter and the political power he represents.”

 From the red flush that had fused Umbridge’s face, Vradica was correct, but the prince wasn’t stopping there. “Tell me, do you believe that Chief Warlock Dumbledore would be taken by a con artist trying to pass himself off as Imperial Royalty? What about Director Bones? The Marquis of Malfoy and his family? Or even the Honorable Arthur Weasley?” inquired Vradica, gesturing with a bandaged hand to each person in question who was glaring at Umbridge. “You see, I have been in contact with all of them and more, but you are calling all of them fools for being taken in by a con.”

 “You will either remove that veil yourself or it will be ripped from you after your arrest,” shouted Umbridge, her face an even more red, and Lucius wasn’t sure if it was in anger or embarrassment for implying that so many noticeable families were taken in by so easy a con.

 “Who are you to demand such a thing?” called a voice from the gallery, and Lucius just barely hid his shock as he recognized that voice. He wondered how that individual had managed to get into the chamber without being recognized by anyone.

 Umbridge whirled around to glare at the gallery. “I am Senior Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge, and I demand that whomever _dares_ to question my authority to come forward and be identified!”

 A slender figure rose in the back of the gallery and gasps of surprise rang out as over a dozen other figures also rose to follow the veiled figure down to the center of the Wizengamot chamber. There were startled whispers as many recognized the Imperial Investigator who was walking at the Eternal Mother’s shoulder, and Lucius rose to his feet out of respect for the Empress, followed by many others in both the gallery and the Wizengamot seats.

 “Please be seated. I am here as a guest,” the Empress announced, raising a hand to wave everyone back to their seats. “Astharoshe, please bring me the evidence this individual has that lead to my brother being pulled out of his recovery bed.”

 “By your command, Eternal Mother,” Asran stated, stepping forward only for Umbridge to grab her papers and back away, a sneer on her face.

 “You are nothing more than a desperate attempt for a criminal to stay out of Azkaban!” Umbridge growled, her eyes a bit wide. “Aurors! Arrest them all!”

 Tisking, the Empress stalked forward, passing Asran and waving the Methuselah back. “If you wanted my attention, little girl, you have it,” purred the Empress, sounding like a large predator closing in its chosen prey. “Most intelligent beings can tell you that having my attention, especially in a negative way, is _never_ a good thing.”

 Umbridge continued backing up, trying to get away from the advancing Empress only to scream and jump as her back hit the lowest boxes. “Allow me to educate you on a few facts, Senior Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge,” continued the Empress. “There are only a select few that know what my brother and I look like, and they are trusted beyond question. You are not among those that would qualify as you are merely a witch looking for political power.”

 “Forgive me, your Imperial Majesty, but as the Chief Warlock, I must ask that you do not kill Madam Umbridge on the floor of the Wizengamot,” Dumbledore said, his tone highly respectful. He gestured towards them with a twinkling gaze. “Blood is so hard to get out of the wood, you see.”

 “Oh I have no intention of doing something so _common_ as kill her, Chief Warlock Dumbledore,” remarked the Empress, and Lucius felt a cold chill run down his spine. Lucifer had sounded like that when he had been negotiating with Draco at the beginning of the summer.

 “I thank you for your indulgence, Eternal Mother,” Dumbledore stated, sitting back in his chair as if an unruly student had just agreed to play nice.

 “You’re a _vampire!_ ” shrieked Umbridge. “Everyone knows that you can’t control your bloodlust! Someone help me!”

 Even though the dozen armored guards didn’t move a muscle, their anger was unmistakable, and Asran took a threatening step towards Umbridge, fangs bared in a furious hiss. She subsided when the Empress held up a calming hand. “No, Dolores Umbridge will live a long and miserable life, shunned by all and accepted by none,” announced the Empress, each word pulsing with power and more than a little touch of magic. “For the insult she has brought upon the Imperial House of Vradica, she shall never enjoy the Hospitality of Zeus, being turned from every door no matter where she may roam. For reaching above her station, never shall she have rest once she has passed into the Kingdom of Hades and his Iron Queen. For the lies she has tried to spread and those that she has corrupted, may she never enjoy the fruits of Demeter’s Labors nor the meat of Artemis’ Hunts. And for attempting to steal a child from a house that welcomed him with love and joy, may she ever be shunned from knowing any joy found among the rest of the Olympians.”

 There was a shimmer of light and a woman, wearing an Ancient Greek outfit and carrying a sword in one hand and a pair of scales in the other appeared. “So it has been declared, so the judgement and sentence of Dolores Jane Umbridge shall be judged as Fair and Just by those that dwell upon Olympus!”

 There was a loud thunderclap as the woman vanished, and Lucius brought a hand up to press against his breastbone, trying to calm his pounding heart. There was no doubt in his mind at all that Umbridge was in for a long and miserable existence both before and after death, and he wondered if it would have just been more merciful to simply kill Umbridge where she stood.

 Reaching out, the Empress plucked the folder of papers from the numb fingers of Umbridge before walking over to hand them to Asran. “Be sure to express my displeasure on anyone who helped her with this nonsense,” drawled the slender figure, and the bloodthirsty grin on Asran’s face indicated that it would be carried out with delight. “Alexi, I expect to see you back in bed or better, in a tub soaking for a while. This was most certainly not good for you.”

 The Crown Prince laughed and bowed from his seat. “As my Empress commands,” he teased. “So I obey.”

 “Cheeky brat,” huffed the Empress, shaking her head before she turned and inclined her head to Dumbledore. “I thank the Wizengamot for their indulgence of this situation and hope that there is no further question as to the identity of Alexi Vradica?”

 Dumbledore rose to his feet and looked around the silent room, but no one spoke up. Possibly too scared about bringing the wrath of the small Empress down on them and their family, and a few moments of silent later, Dumbledore nodded. “On behalf of the Wizengamot, I apologize for allowing someone to act against the Imperial Family in such a way, and I will do what I can to ensure no such actions can happen again.”

 “Your apology is accepted, Chief Warlock,” the Empress stated before turning and walking out of the chamber with her guards forming up around her. Asran moved to the podium and started flipping through the pages, shaking her head at the information that was on them.

 “There is nothing among these papers that would bring any question to His Imperial Highness’ identity,” Asran announced, holding up the pages. “If I brought such information to the Eternal Mother in the course of my duties, she would strip me of my title before spanking my bottom until it was as red as my eyes for daring to slander someone with this tripe.” Shaking her head, she extracted one page before handing the rest to Director Bones. “Here, this is your part of this idiocy. I’ll handle the Imperial part if that’s alright with you.”

 “I believe anyone else involved in this who had been helping Madam Umbridge would rather ask for our mercy than wait to see if the Eternal Mother would find them,” drawled Bones, accepting the papers.

 There was a small chuckle of amusement that had a small touch of nervousness, but Lucius noticed that no one in the room looked like they were guilty of anything. At least not guilty of this farce with Vradica.

 “Is there any other business that has to be brought before the Wizengamot this day, my lords and ladies?” inquired Dumbledore, looking around the chamber, but no one spoke up. Nodding, Dumbledore tapped his wand on the podium. “Then I declare this session of the Wizengamot closed. I thank the Lords and Ladies for their time this day.”

 Lucius huffed softly as he rose to his feet, and he looked at Vradica. “Come, Your Imperial Highness, let’s get you back to bed before the ladies in our lives make them more interesting should they believe we are disobeying their orders.”

 A laugh escaped from Vradica, and he spread his arms as he looked at Lucius. “I am at your mercy, my Lord Malfoy,” he teased. “Let us return the invalid to his sick bed before your lady and my sister conspire further.”

 “We had better hurry before one of them gets the idea to send Paula to fetch you,” Lucius murmured, and smirked slightly when Vradica shivered at the thought of his formidable assistant coming for him. Drawing his wand, Lucius flicked it at Vradica, levitating him as Auror Shacklebolt joined them, and the three smoothly escaped the Wizengamot chamber for the safety of Malfoy Manor.


	13. Harry Potter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fight and some more secrets revealed.

Harry paused at the door of his borrowed bedroom to watch a furious Astharoshe Asran storm into the room across the hallway. A few minutes later, she emerged again, this time in all black leather that made her seem even more deadly than the blue and white outfit she had been wearing since her arrival, and Harry hesitantly followed her, curious to know what was going on. He knew there had been an emergency session of the Wizengamot called because Alexi - and it was hard to think of his guardian as ‘Abel’ when he was being all noble and proper -  had to rearrange his afternoon schedule for it, putting Paula and Petros in charge of the meetings in his place. But Alexi and Lord Malfoy had returned about fifteen minutes ago and were in Alexi’s rooms with Lady Malfoy, possibly changing his bandages and renewing the cream to help heal the sores left behind by the boils.

 He followed Asran down to the Dueling Room located in the basement of Malfoy Manor only to flinch at the sheer dragon-like roar she gave as she attacked the dueling dummies that were there. He had to admit that he was rather surprised at the ammount of damage she was doing with only her hands and nails as the dueling dummies were ripped to shreds. He had heard that a Methuselah was a ferocious opponent when angered, but now he could actually believe it.

 A hand landed on his shoulder, causing him to yelp and jump. Turning slightly, he saw Paula standing there in a long cloak but the hand on his shoulder was armored. “Stay here, Your Grace,” ordered Paula, pushing him into the room and into a corner where he was partially shielded from anything being thrown around. “I’ll get her calmed down.”

 Harry nodded and sat down on a chair that was there. Paula nodded once before moving towards the furious Methuselah, and Harry nearly swallowed his own tongue when she casually tossed the cloak to one side of the room, revealing a strange outfit. It looked a bit like a silver one piece bathing suit, but there was a belt low on her hips and a strap holding some daggers around one thigh. Armored gloves went from her shoulders down to her hands, and armored high heel boots came up over her knees. On her back were crescent blades, and he watched as she reached back to grab them, showing that they were two weapons, each were two blades on the side of a handle. The most startling thing was the crosses on her knee pads, shoulder pads, and backs of her hands. Well, Alexi had said that he was part of the church, so maybe Paula and Petros were too?

 Asran didn’t seem to notice Paula in her determination to totally trash the room, but Paula gave a credible war cry as she swung one of the blades at Asran. The blade stopped just inches from Asran’s face, held in midair by the spear that had suddenly appeared in the Methuselah’s hands.

 “Come on, Duchess,” Paula drawled, a sharp smile on her face as she shifted just a bit closer to Asran. “Unless you’re afraid to face me instead of some stuffed dummies that won’t fight back?”

 “Only a fool wouldn’t be afraid to face the Inquisition’s Lady of Death!” hissed Asran through clenched fangs, and Harry felt a cold chill race down his spine. Inquisition? Paula was a member of the terrifying Inquisition? But why was she helping Alexi help him? Unless Alexi didn’t know that she was an Inquisitor?

 Paula laughed, a mocking sound that made Harry flinch, and swung again, forcing Asran to dance backwards, and Harry could only watch as the two moved around the Dueling Room, trading blows in a flurry of black and silver. There were taunts tossed around, but Harry couldn’t hear them through the ring of metal on metal that competed with the furious pounding of his heart in his ears. He was definitely getting a first hand look at why the Inquisition and Methuselah both were said to be fearsome fighters, but he wondered if it hadn’t been better to remain ignorant of such things.

 He didn’t know how long they fought while he sat in the corner, frozen by the sheer violence, but the door was suddenly slammed open with enough force to imbed the knob into the wall. Scrambling backwards out of the chair, Harry managed to get his wand in his hand as a mountain in human form descended on the two fighters.

 “Enough!” bellowed a voice that sounded like it should belong to a dragon, and Harry could only stare as Petros grabbed the women by their arms, physically separating them by the simple aspect of lifting them off the floor. How he wasn’t hurt, Harry didn’t know, but he watched as Petros easily carried them over to one side of the room and plopped them down on the floor. “Now what is your issue? I had a House Elf in near tears when it came to tell me that you two were fighting.”

 Paula shrugged and put her blades to one side before she leaned back on her hands and stretched her impossibly long legs out in front of her, crossing them at the ankle. “Her Grace needed an outlet for her anger before she brought the manor down, and I was the best candidate for the job,” she said, not sounding at all breathless, and Harry had to wonder if she was that good at faking it or if she was just _that good_ at going hand to hand with a Methuselah. “Abel’s in no position right now, and you would have just helped bring down the manor.”

 “And the fact that the young one is in the corner with his wand in his hand means nothing to you, Paula?” inquired Petros, his voice still a dangerous rumble, and Harry got the feeling that the way he said her name was a bit of a threat.

 Huffing, Paula lifted her hand and beckoned Harry over to them. “Come join us, Your Grace. I believe Her Grace’s anger has been vented for now.”

 Harry was about to refuse when he saw the sheepish look on Asran’s face. It was the same one that he had seen on other people, the one that pretty much told everyone that they screwed up, they knew it, and now they had to figure out how to fix it. Deliberately, Harry put his wand up before walking over to sit next to Asran. He was surprised that he actually wasn’t afraid of her despite what he had just witnessed. Neither she nor Paula was hurt beyond some bruises, and he knew how easy it was to get hurt by someone during a fight so that meant they had a lot of control.

 “It’s not easy right now, is it?” Harry suddenly asked, looking at Asran, and while that hadn’t been what he meant to ask, he continued, letting the words pour out of him.”Seeing your friend injured and knowing that there’s nothing you can do because he has to get better on his own. Even magic can only cure so much despite how wonderful it is at times.”

 He wrapped his arms around his knees, hugging them close to his chest in an effort to contain the wildly swinging emotions inside. THere were times when he didn’t know if he wanted to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of finding himself a welcomed guest in _Malfoy’s_ home, scream and beat on something because someone had hurt the first person who actually wanted him since his parents’ murder, or curl in a corner and bawl because that same person was almost taken from him. He had felt like this ever since Alexi had been attacked at the garden party, and while he had managed to keep himself distracted with his lessons or trying to keep Alexi from being irritable at his extended bedrest, there were times when it just sorta bubbled up until all he could do was hide in his room for a while.

 “But Alexi’s getting better, and Aunt Augusta said that our house is almost ready to move into so that will help because then we don’t have to be brave and pretend like everything that’s been going on isn’t bothering us,” Harry stated. “When we get moved into our house, she told me that there would be a room full of pottery for us to smash until we felt better, and there would be a house elf to repair the pottery when we got done for further rounds of smashing and screaming.”

 “You’re very wise for being eleven,” Asran remarked, her voice soft but there was a small smile on her face. “You remind me a great deal of your guardian. He also tries to cheer others up despite the fact that he himself is hurting, and with everything that has been going on, it’s easy to overlook the ones who are hurt the most by the actions of others.”

 Harry was very proud of the fact that he didn’t jump when she draped an arm around his shoulders and gently hugged him. “I am sorry I lost my temper and scared you, Harry Potter. It was not my intention, but today, someone tried to hurt Alexi by taking you away from him. It didn’t work, and there are many who will be working to ensure that such a thing can not happen again, but the idea of _anyone_ trying to hurt him just to further their own political power makes me furious.”

 “The woman was stopped, and the Eternal Mother laid a doozy of a punishment on her for acting against the Imperial House of Vradica and for trying to take you away,” Paula remarked with a sharp smirk. “There may be a few more families that are willing to look at an official alliance between the Houses because of this. After all, if that toad was willing to go after an Imperial House with only the vaguest of information and _believe_ she could bully everyone into getting her way, then there is a fear that others who are not as powerful could be next.”

 “Yet an alliance with Vradica or by extension my own Houses, will secure those Houses a strong, political ally,” Harry huffed, shaking his head. It had been one of the early lessons he had gotten, the interaction of the various Noble Houses, be they Ancient or merely Noble, and how a political alliance worked. Hermione was able to help explain it in easier terms using the Hogwart houses as examples because while he could understand some things, others went completely over his head.

 He lifted his head to look over at Paula. “Are you really a member of the Inquisition?”

 Beside him, Asran winced as she apparently remembered the slip of her tongue earlier, but Harry continued staring at Paula who shifted slightly to imitate how he was sitting.

  “Would it make a difference if I was?” Paula countered, her face curious as she watched him.

 Harry shrugged a shoulder. “I would be curious to know why you didn’t respond to Uncle Vernon’s claim about having contacts in the Inquisition when Alexi took me in,” he confessed, resting his cheek on his knees as he looked at her. “Unless, you don’t know the same people he does?”

 Paula laughed as she rose to her feet, and Harry scrambled to his own. “Your uncle does not know anyone of any importance in the Inquisition, Young Harry,” she stated, gathering up her weapons and putting them on her back again before gathering up her cloak. She glanced at Petros, who sighed and nodded, before she smiled at Harry as she fastened her cloak back around her shoulders. “Despite what many believe about the Inquisition, not all of us are the ferocious monsters in the dark that steal away anyone that is different. Such a reputation comes from the cardinal whom we are under, but to answer your question, yes, I am a member of the Inquisition.”

 She bowed to Harry, and he felt a thrill race down his spine that he normally only felt when he was chasing the Snitch. “Sister Paula Souwauski, Second in command of the Inquisition and the Lady of Death.”

 “And I am Brother Petros Orsini, leader of the Inquisition and the Knight of Destruction,” Petros stated with his own bow to Harry. “We are here only to assist Father Nightroad in the destruction of the one known as Voldemort. Once that has been accomplished, we shall return to the Vatican and our own duties there.” He gave Harry a small, almost hesitant smile. “I hope that you will write to us even after we part ways, because I would like to count you among my friends even though we had to lie to you about who we were.”

 “I can see why you did,” Harry said, looking at these two. Did it really matter who they were beyond Paula and Petros? Paula who had got him to laugh and snuck him an extra slice of cake. Petros who had held him those first few nights at Le Chamber when the nightmares came and all he could do was cry into the strong arms, feeling safe for the first time in forever. No, they were not any different now that he knew they worked for the Inquisition, because if it had, then Petros wouldn’t have yelled at Paula and Asran for fighting while he was hiding in the corner. Even though it was the most defensible spot in the room, and he was pretty sure Paula had made sure that none of the fighting had gotten even close to him. “But it doesn’t change the fact that you’re still Petros and Paula, and frankly, knowing that you’re after Voldemort is a great relief because everyone knows that once the Inquisition have set their sights on a target, they’re as good a dead.”

 Petros actually cracked a smile at that before nodding at everyone. “Come, let’s go see if we can distract Alexi with tea because he is sure to be in a sour mood because of that woman.”

 As Harry left the dueling room with the three adults, he realized that his emotions no longer felt like they were swinging like an out of control pendulum. Maybe all he had needed was the knowledge that adults could get just as mixed up emotionally as kids could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fight scenes are my Achilles's Heel even more so than names are, so sorry about the lack of action in this chapter when it came to the fight.


	14. Petros

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visit to Hogwarts and a realization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay. This chapter was giving me *fits* until I had a sudden epiphany. Hopefully, it will go more smoother now that I have this wrinkle ironed out.

It had been another tea with Dumbledore that had somehow turned towards dangerous objects that were sometimes found at Hogwarts. He had confessed that the wards on the castle were old and could use a bit of a tune up. Abel had contacted the goblins to see how much such an endeavor would cost as well as how long it would take before he sent a note to Lord Malfoy as one of the Board of Education members informing him that Abel himself would shoulder the cost of such a project to ensure the school was a safe environment for the children to learn in. Petros thought it rather sneaky for Abel to arrange the goblins’ visit to Hogwarts on the same day that they were moving out of Malfoy Manor and into the modest manor that Seth had arranged to be purchased for Abel to live in while he remained in Albion. Harry was put in charge of making sure everything was moved over with Paula and Lupin’s help while Petros accompanied Abel to Hogwarts. 

Petros wrapped an arm around Abel’s waist to keep him steady as the portkey deposited them, Lord Malfoy, and the goblin team on the large expanse of grass situated before the huge castle, and Abel groaned slightly, leaning into Petros. “Do wizards often travel by allowing themselves to be thrown across the world without so much as a ‘By Your Leave’?” huffed the silver haired man. “I think part of my stomach was left back there.”

“Be glad it was portkey and not Floo travel,” remarked Petros with a good natured chuckle in his voice. “Unless you would prefer to be spun around like a top while traveling through various fireplaces.” That earned him a low growl before Abel straightened and stepped away from Petros, and the large dragon had to admit that traveling by the Floo was not his prefered way to get around. Of course, if given half the chance he would rather fly somewhere with his own wings or in a ship.

The large doors opened, and everyone looked up to find Dumbledore walking towards them with a small man hurrying next to him. It wasn’t that Dumbledore was walking fast as the other’s legs were just that short, giving the impression of one that was racing to stay up with his more long legged companion, and as they odd pair drew closer, Petros realized that this must be Professor Flitwick, the Charms Professor that Miss Granger spoke so much about. That made Petros curious as to know why Flitwick was joining the expedition as it were.

“Welcome to Hogwarts, gentlemen,” greeted Dumbledore, spreading his arms in a friendly gesture. “Allow me to introduce Filius Flitwick, Professor of Charms and a Duel Master. He will be assisting your warders in their endeavors today while I help those hunting for any dark items, if that is acceptable to everyone?”

Gnarlfang stepped forward and saluted Flitwick who returned the salute. “Steelfang is in charge of the warders, and I am Gnarlfang. I will be assisting the Cursebreakers in the dark item hunt.”

“Of course, gentlemen,” Dumbledore said with a smile before he looked at Abel and Malfoy. “Is there something I may be able to assist you gentlemen with before the parties begin?”

“I am here simply because I am paying for this, Headmaster,” chuckled Abel before gesturing to the castle. “Plus this gives me an excuse to see where my fosterling goes to school.”

“I am merely a representative of the Board and will be giving them a full report at the next meeting on how much was found to be stashed away as well as what state the wards were in before Ward Master Steelfang began his work,” Malfoy remarked with a small incline of his head to the goblin in question. “Should a problem arise that would require the Board’s approval, I will be on hand to provide it.”

Inclining his head, Dumbledore escorted the group up into the castle, and Petros managed to resist the urge to look around in awe at the moving painting and the occasional ghost that drifted through. From the swiveling of Abel’s head, he wasn’t quite so restrained, and Petros made sure that he didn’t walk into anything or anyone as he looked around. Within a few minutes, they were in the Great Hall with a couple of maps spread out on one of the long tables. One was a simple map of Hogwarts with various schematics scribbled around it that Petros took to understand were the wards while the other was almost a book of parchments containing hand drawn maps of each floor.

“I hope these will be able to assist you in your tasks,” Dumbledore stated before glancing at Steelfang. “Unfortunately, I have no idea when the wards were last maintenance.” 

Steelfang nodded, tracing a gnarled finger over the writings. “This are old, but we have seen older,” he stated. “And in much poorer condition. Quite possibly the damage to them is due to time and wear, but we will verify that once we get to the wardstone.”

“The hunt for dark artefacts will take much longer than we originally thought,” sighed Gnarlfang, shaking his head as he paged through the maps of Hogwarts. “There is quite a lot of area to cover, and more than a few magical passages.”

Petros hummed as he glanced at Dumbledore, an idea occurring to him. “Headmaster, how many servants does Hogwarts employ?”

“There are a hundred house elves bonded to Hogwarts,” Dumbledore replied, a confused note in his voice. “Why?”

“Would they be willing to assist Master Gnarlfang and his team in locating dark objects?” inquired Petros with a shrug. “Or at least those that are not busy with more important tasks at this time?” After working in Hogwarts for a while, any servant would know more about the castle than those that were there only most of the year and frequented the more well known parts. From the stunned looks he was recieving, it was obvious that the magicals had never thought of using house elves for anything beyond their basic uses.

Gnarlfang hummed before nodding as he looked at Dumbledore. “If you will allow us to borrow your house elves, this will go much faster.”

Instead of replying, Dumbledore clapped his hands twice, and there was a small pop as a house elf appeared. “Teekey, would you and all the house elves not currently working on something important for the school help Master Gnarlfang find all the dark magic items to make the school safe for the children?”

The house elf twisted an ear and shyly looked at Gnarlfang. “Would Master Goblin Sir like bad hurty things from Come and Go Room too?”

“Yes,” Gnarlfang stated with a nod. He glanced around the Great Hall. “Weasley, Runeswood, you two remain here to catalog and safely store everything that we find.”

The two, one sporting hair as red as Ron Weasley’s, nodded and started opening their bags, setting up areas to obviously start cataloging the items. Petros glanced around the hall before realizing there was nothing really he or Abel could do here until something happened, and he had learned that Abel hated being inactive. Stepping over to Abel, Petros lowered his voice slightly. “Perhaps, sir, you would prefer to tour Hogwarts while you are here?”

Abel jumped slightly before looking at Petros, and it was all Petros could do to not frown. The Crusnik wasn’t normally that inattentive, and it wasn’t like the larger man had hidden his approach. Obviously there was something distracting Abel in what could be a dangerous way. “I… yes. That would be better than hovering over everyone and getting in their way.”

“Perhaps I might offer you a tour,” Malfoy remarked, gesturing slightly towards the door with his cane. “It has been a few years since I attended, but I’m sure I remember my way around.” He gave Abel a small smile. “Should anyone require us, it would be a simple matter of sending a house elf to find us.”

Nodding, Abel fell into step beside Malfoy with Petros right behind them, and Petros only listened with a partial ear as Malfoy lead them through the stone hallways. Malfoy walked slow because while Abel had almost fully recovered from the attack, he still had a few sores on his feet. The blond aristocrat kept up a steady stream of information, pointing out various features and interests, but Petros could tell that Abel wasn’t really paying attention to what Malfoy was saying. Petros took a bit of an interest in the tales and information that Malfoy offered, enjoying the history of this magical place as told by one who had walked its halls for seven years.

A few hours later, Malfoy lead them up onto one of the tower rooms, explaining that it was the one most used for the Astronomy class, and Abel walked to the window, staring out over the gloomy forest. Yet there was a tightness to Abel’s shoulders that Petros didn’t like, one that spoke of too much thinking and not enough action tying a person up in mental knots until they were unable to move. Malfoy seemed to understand that something was wrong with Abel and moved to the other side of the room to give him some peace even as Petros walked over to stand beside Abel, offering silent comfort until Abel was ready to talk.

“There’s nothing,” Abel finally said, breaking the silence that had stretched between the minutes, and Petros frowned at the anger and tension in those two words. With a growl, Abel whirled around to sit on the worn stones, wrapping his arms around his updrawn knees, and Petros settled himself next to Abel as the silver haired man continued. “I have  _ nothing _ that will lead  _ anyone _ to Voldemort except for Quirrell's death, reports on Death Eater activities that are over a decade old, and files of people who have shown no sign of helping Voldemort or are behind bars, babbling at the ceiling.”

Ah, so that was the problem. Abel was in charge of this mission, and now he was discovering nothing but dead end after cold trail. It had been quite a while since Petros had to deal with a mission like that, and often the mission had to be scrapped due to lack of any useful information after a while. Abel had the leeway to continue going after Voldemort because he was also Harry’s guardian, and that was a very good excuse for keeping him in Albion. Petros draped an arm across Abel’s shoulders before gently tugging him closer. “You’ve never had a mission go cold like this before, have you?”

Abel shook his head. “Usually, there’s  _ something _ that will show a new lead or a different angle on an old clue, but right now, there’s nothing.” He shook his head, a defeated slump to his shoulders. “I don’t quite know how to tell Dumbledore that everything that we’ve tried has lead to a dead end.”

“Simply tell him,” drawled a new voice, and Petros looked up to find the unmistakable figure of the Morrigan standing there with an amused smile on her face. Her dark eyes, however, were worried as she stared at Abel. “After all, he may know where the trail has gone or even where a new twig has been snapped.”

Petros huffed slightly as he rose to his feet along with Abel. Whenever the gods and goddesses started visiting and talking cryptically, the day was bound to get interesting.


	15. Father Abel Nightroad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abel faces some hard truths.

Abel gracefully rose to his feet before sinking to his knees before the goddess, his head bowed with respect. Honestly, he had so rarely been visited by any deity that he could count the number of times on one hand and have most of his fingers left over, but he made sure to  _ always _ pay them the respect due to them whenever they did show up. “I shall take your advice to heart, my lady.”

Gentle fingers brushed over his head before he heard her tisk. “Rise, my little raven, and take off that silly veil,” she requested, although it sounded more like an order to Abel. Shaking his head, Abel rose once more to his feet before flipping the veil back off his face. The Morrigan smirked at him before drawing a finger down his cheek. “Why are you wearing that silly thing in the first place?”

“Because… the Empress requested it of me when I was given her permission to come here,” Abel countered, remembering just in time about Lucius Malfoy that was standing off to one side. The man was already aware of some things about him, such as he wasn’t a typical Methuselah, but he had been hiding for so long that he couldn’t just start sharing secrets left, right, and center. He raised a brow at the Morrigan’s smirk. “I do have to operate under a few constraints, my lady.”

Morrigan snorted before slinging an arm around Abel’s waist as she turned to look at Lucius who was watching with a small if amused smile on his face. “Have you removed your brand yet, slave?”

There was a slight threat to her words, and Abel briefly wondered what she meant when she referred to him as a slave. Was it because of his previous association with Voldemort? Instead of verbally replying, the blond aristocrat shrugged out of his robe and unfastened the cuff before rolling up his sleeve to expose a band of runes that seemed to shimmer like fire in the light.

“My lady was quite insistent that I take Lord Lucifer up on his generous offer,” Lucius drawled with a small smirk. “I trust myself and Severus will be permitted to work with your raven now?”

Apparently, it was the wrong thing to say, because the Morrigan suddenly had Lucius pinned to the stone wall behind him, a sword at his throat and a pair of raven wings stretching from her back that made her seem even larger and more deadly than ever. 

“I suggest you watch your tone with me,  _ mortal _ ,” she purred, her voice as hard and sharp as the sword she held in one hand. “Or it might be your clothes I wash next.”

“M...my apologies, my lady,” Lucius gasped, his face parchment pale as he stared down at her with large, pale eyes, and Abel walked over to rest a gentle hand on one of the Morrigan’s wings.

“My lady, please do not harm him,” he requested, his voice soft and a touch submissive as he kept his touch very light on her feathers. “He has been quite gracious enough to allow me to reside in his home while I recover from an attack as well as swore to keep my secrets.”

Dark eyes turned to look at Abel over the Morrigan’s shoulder before she released Lucius, letting the wizard fall the the ground as she sheathed her sword. She turned, her wings vanishing as she looked at Abel, and he blushed because he had a feeling she could see his infatuation with Lucius. It was hard to not appreciate the physical beauty of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy when they were together, and over the past few weeks that he had been their guest, he had developed quite a crush on them from interacting with them as well. Of course, he knew it would never go anywhere as they were happily married to each other, but that didn’t stop the daydreams and fantasies the few times he allowed himself to indulge.

“Because you have only ever asked this of me, I will spare him for now,” The Morrigan stated, brushing the back of her fingers down Abel’s face, and he ducked his head in a partial bow of thanks for her actions. She whirled back to point a finger at Lucius who had managed to get back on his feet. “End the Blood Feud with the Weasleys, even if you have to swallow your pride to do it. I will not have a child harmed by the actions of the adults around him.”

“Yes, my lady,” Lucius sighed, looking a bit like a child who had been called on the carpet for getting in trouble.

“The House of Vradica will right several wrongs that have been allowed to linger in this land for far too long,” The Morrigan announced, her voice ringing with power, and Abel flinched as he felt the words swirl around him like a rope, binding him to the goddess’ commands. “He will align the LIght and Dark, Champion those left bereft, and Protect those in need from  _ all _ who would harm them. Gain his loyalty and you will have a friend for life. Draw his animosity, and your clothes will be washed in the ford as the ravens come for your bones.”

“As my lady commands,” Abel murmured, sinking to one knee before her with his head bowed. While he knew he was going to be on a long term assignment due to fostering young Harry, things had just gotten much more complicated because of the Morrigan’s decree. He was unsure how he was going to be able to do anything as complicated as align this “Light” and “Dark”, but the rest was honestly in his nature. He only hoped that didn’t mean he was going to be called on for every little problem.

There was a rustling of feathers and the call of a raven in flight, and when he looked up, the Morrigan was gone, leaving them alone in the room. Shaking his head, Abel rose to his feet and resettled the veil over his face as Lucius straightened out his appearance, and he glanced over at Petros who looked completely unruffled about the whole visit.

“It looks like I have my marching orders,” Abel remarked, glancing back at Lucius. “Should probably head back to the Great Hall to see if Professor Dumbledore is there.” He shook his head, feeling rather disappointed in himself, but there was literally nothing for him to follow. As much as it galled him to admit it, he had to admit defeat at the moment until new evidence was brought to light that would show a new path to follow.

Lucius fell into step next to Abel as they started back to the rest of the group. “The Morrigan is your patron, yet you do not ask favors from her?”

“I am a believer of helping oneself instead of always begging for a higher power for help,” Abel explained, choosing his words carefully. He could hardly explain that he had learned to become self reliant at an early age due to Armageddon and the military that had created him, and the Morrigan hadn’t entered his life until centuries later. “Besides, there are more often those who require her attention and assistance in a situation that is much more desperate than what I find myself in.”

“I would think that she would be more invested in the lives of her ravens,” mused the blond.

Abel eyed him with a raised brow. “It is possible she watches me more than I am aware, but she does not interfere unless I ask which I appreciate.”

That got a hum from Lucien before the man fell silent, which Abel appreciated at the moment. He was having a hard enough time trying to figure out what he would tell Dumbledore about the Voldemort situation, because to be honest, it made his stomach clench to know that the investigation was dead as it was. Petros was right. Abel had never had an investigation go dead like this before, and there was a feeling of failure that he had never been good at dealing with.

When they arrived in the Great Hall, the long tables had been pushed to the sides with the benches piled up, creating a great deal of space in the center. Goblins were moving around various piles, muttering in their harsh language to each other, while their wizard helpers were waving their wands around, lowering various items into containers. House elves were popping in with various items that were placed against one side of the room, and Abel was surprised to see Dumbledore standing near the front, watching everything with a rather amused smile on his face.

“The house elves are doing such a fantastic job bringing all of the dangerous things to the goblins, I find myself without anything to do,” Dumbledore explained with a small chuckle as Abel joined him. The older man eyed Abel with a thoughtful look. “However, I have a feeling you wish to discuss something other than how the cleaning is going.”

“That is an uncomfortable truth, sir,” Abel sighed, his voice soft to carry only to the old man. He folded his arms across his chest and stared at the floor as he forced himself to continue. “The trail has gone cold, and there’s nothing to follow. I don’t know where to go from here as all my resources are exhausted.”

“Not unexpected honestly,” sighed Dumbledore, and Abel glanced up to find a faint frown on the older man’s face even as he stroked his beard in a thoughtful manner. “He was always rather cunning at keeping his plans close to the vest as it were, and I doubt even his trusted Inner Circle knew even half of what he had planned.” He smiled and reached out to pat Abel’s shoulder, reassuringly, and Abel managed to not flinch at the contact but it was a close thing. “Do not worry, my boy. You will succeed even if it takes time. Remember, I’ve been working on this very thing since he was defeated by the Potters, and I am no closer than you.”

Abel nodded and looked around, trying to figure out what to do now. He had come along to authorize payment out of the House Vradica account for whatever costs might be accrued during this service, but he did hot have to be hovering over them every minute they were here. He glanced over at Petros. “I’m going to take a walk outside,” he said, his voice soft. “Get some fresh air and clear my head a bit.”

Petros raised a brow. “Want some company?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” Abel remarked before turning and heading back out of the castle. He managed to keep his body language casual long enough to escape out into the cloudy day. That was another thing that was starting to wear on him was the people that constantly surrounded him to keep up the charade that he was the Imperial Crown Prince and thus needed to be protected. To be perfectly frank, he didn’t need anyone to protect him, and he was getting tired of everyone dogging his footsteps. When Voldemort was gone for good, perhaps he’d talk to Seth about coming out as himself with a story about how he had been working with the Vatican to stop a threat to the world while also protecting the Empire. 

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his glasses and his earcuffs, slipping them into place after removing the veil and the diadem. The earcuffs were familiar weight that he hadn’t realized he was missing until now, but the glasses were a necessary evil as they were a head’s up device where information could be displayed. Tapping the earcuff, he opened a channel to the one person who was always listening to this frequency. “Sister Kate, it’s Father Abel. I need to speak to Her Grace.”

There was a bit of static that appeared on the lenses before the face of Sister Kate Scott appeared on the glass. “It is good to hear from you, Father Abel,” greeted the blonde nun even as she glanced off to the side. “Her Grace will be with you in just a moment.”

“Thank you, Sister Kate,” Abel murmured, turning to face the rather dark and imposing forest that was on the border of Hogwarts. He wondered what sort of beings lived in there as well as the plants. Part of him itched to go exploring it while the more sensible part thought it was better to wait until he had more information about it.

“What did you wish to speak to me about, Father Abel?” Catarina’s voice in his ear snapped him out of his thoughts, and he smiled as he felt a bit better just by hearing her. 

“I’m afraid the investigation into Voldemort has stalled at this time, Your Grace,” Abel reported with a sigh. He let his frustration leak into his words as she knew him better than most. “Professor Dumbledore has been informed as well, and he believes that it will just be a matter of time before something happens to give us a fresh lead.”

Catarina hummed and tilted her head in a thoughtful manner as Abel simply waited for her to speak. “What do you wish to do in regards to your work with the Department of Foreign Affairs?” she finally asked after several minutes. “You are already listed as on a long term assignment for assisting in Duke Potter’s guardianship.”

Abel sighed and crouched on the ground, sitting on his heels as he wrapped an arm around his knees. “I’ve been tasked by the Morrigan to align the Light and Dark here while correcting several problems that those here have let linger for far too long,” he explained, his voice soft. “I don’t know how long that will take or if I will ever be able to return to the Vatican as a simple priest. I need to talk to the Empress after you because I have a few personal things to discuss that would only affect my appearance here.”

“I will have your status shifted to Permanent Special Assignment so you will be on call for emergencies that require the entire department, but unfortunately your expenses will be shifted to the same living expenses as a priest with a parish,” Catarina announced, shifting slightly, and Abel realized she had reached for some paper and was writing that order down. She offered Abel a wry smile. “Should you ever decide to return to the Vatican full time, your status as an agent will be reinstated, but Abel, don’t come back because you think you  _ have _ to. You’re more than welcome to come visit, and we will definitely call you if we have a problem that requires you to help, but you now have a much more important job as Duke Potter’s guardian. As far as the Vatican is concerned, he is your ward, and no one can take him away from you.”

Something relaxed in Abel at that, and he offered her a small, relieved smile. “Thank you. I hadn’t realized just how concerned I was about having someone take him away from until just now.”

Catarina laughed. “After that pitiful power play against you by that Umbridge person, I sincerely doubt  _ anyone _ would risk their lives and sanity by trying to take the young man away from you,” she remarked with a smirk. “Not even Francesco is stupid enough to move against the House of Vradica.” She hummed and looked at something else. “You shall retain the license and ability to use a firearm as needed in your defense and the defense of others, and I expect you to instruct Duke Potter on firearm safety as well as any other magical that lives with you.”

“Would it be possible to have a special commission for a non-magical so that in the event of an emergency, he is covered as I am?” Abel asked as he had a sudden idea. He wouldn’t be able to keep Petros and Paula with him forever, but just the fact that he had someone else able to use firearms and could back him up if needed would go a long way to soothing possible uncertainties on Seth’s part.

“Who are you thinking about?” inquired Catarina.

“Dr. Daniel Granger, the father of one of Harry’s classmates and a  former Lieutenant of the Special Army Regiment,” Abel immediately said. “His group helped me with a Fleur du Mal cell about thirteen years ago.”

Catarina hummed, thoughtfully. “He already has a record for firearms then,” she mused. “It wouldn’t take much to have him listed as a Special Consultant attached to you. I’ll send along the paperwork for him to sign.” She paused for a few moments. “Is there a reason why you want him as backup?”

Abel sighed, leaning forward to rest his forehead on his knees. “I can’t keep Paula and Petros with me indefinitely,” he stated. “They have responsibilities back at the Vatican, but I still need someone I can call on for help if needed beyond the magicals.”

“He is a good choice,” Catarina said, nodding once. “I’ll ensure that the paperwork is signed off by the Queen of Albion so both of you are covered there. While you would still be covered by the Vatican permission, this will ensure that you aren’t arrested by a well meaning police officer.”

“I have no desire to meet a policeman that way,” drawled Abel with a small smirk. “No matter how attractive he might be.” 

That got a good natured laugh from Catarina, and they spent a few more minutes talking about things before both were satisfied with the arrangements. Catarina told him to call whenever he wished to talk before shifting the call to the Imperial channel at Abel’s request. He only had a few seconds before Seth appeared in the glass.

“Hey, Abel, what’s up that you’re calling me so soon?” Seth asked, looking at him seriously.

With a soft sigh, Abel explained everything that was going on with both the cold investigation and his frustration at hiding behind a veil all the time while people treated him as if he was incapable of defending himself from a hangnail. He did tell her that he was arranging for someone to act as backup for the inevitable day when Petros and Paula returned to the Vatican as he didn’t want her to assign someone to him that would restrict his movements even more than they were now.

“You’re not use to the double life like I am,” agreed Seth with a small, understanding smile. “Give me a day to get a press release ready about why you were working at the Vatican for so long, and then you can do what you want. You’re the Imperial Crown Prince, Abel. That doesn’t change anything. If you want to wander around without a veil, that’s fine, and I will support your decision.” She smirked at him. “If you want to dance the tango naked down the street, I’ll only complain if your partner isn’t as attractive as you are.”

That startled a laugh out of him, and he shook his head. “No, I don’t foresee myself doing a tango anytime soon,” he drawled, unable to completely hide the wistfulness in his voice. “I’ve always been attracted to the impossible people.” He shook his head. “Anyway, the Morrigan has set a couple of tasks on the House of Vradica so I’m going to be here long term cleaning up the magical world.”

“Not happy with the magicals, is she?” his sister asked with an innocent look, and he snorted.

“I’m to clean up some things that they’ve let lie for  _ years _ ,” replied Abel, shaking his head again. “I’m going to have to talk with a lot of people to figure out what’s wrong unless the Morrigan or the others decide to let me know what they want fixed.”

Seth laughed. “Be careful or you’ll find a list next to your bed from everyone,” she teased before shaking her head. “Oh, I won’t be able to make it back for Harry’s birthday this year, so his present is in the ballroom. It was the only place I could think to stash it where he wouldn’t immediately find it.”

“And just what did you get him?” Abel inquired, raising a brow even as he had this mental image of a veritable zoo stuffed in the ballroom.

“Nothing living, I promise,” she laughed, correctly reading the expression on his face. “Just a box of Quidditch leathers and supplies so he can play with his friends. In his room is the latest electronics specially shielded to prevent magic from interfering with them along with a bunch of toys. Your office is also shielded against magic for your electronics as well.”

That got a pleased hum from Abel. Apparently, Seth was enjoying the idea of being the spoiling aunt, but Abel was sure once the rest of his friends got the chance to meet Harry, they would enjoy sending the occasional gift to him, even if it was only a postcard from somewhere they were visiting. “Then I hope we’ll see you around Christmas,” he remarked, wanting to give Harry at least one delightful Christmas to make up for all of the others that he had suffered through. “There will undoubtedly be one ball that I would be well served into attending here or at least a Ministry function.”

“I’ll see about getting the various schedules from your new Society and arranging a winter ball at the best time possible for you and young Harry,” Seth offered. “If nothing else, perhaps a New Year’s party to introduce him to the Court.”

“And me as well,” huffed Abel with a wry smile. “Don’t think I can’t see what you’re up to there.” 

All he received was an innocent look from Seth before she laughed and signed off. Pulling off the earclips and glasses, Abel slowly stood up and shoved them in his pocket again. He actually felt somewhat better about everything now that he had a better idea of where Catarina and Seth both stood on his problem with both the investigation and having been undercover for so long. Now, he just had to work things out with Petros and Paula.


	16. Lucius Malfoy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius has a meeting.

Relaxing back in his chair with his legs crossed at the knees, Lucius was the very picture of the elegant gentleman at leisure with his snake headed cane leaning against his chair while his fingers were curled around a glass of whiskey. Seven other chairs were arranged in a circle, awaiting his guests who were due to arrive at the Chatham House at any minute now. There was one other chair in the far corner of the room, but no one would look at it or even realize it was there until his Patron wished to be acknowledged.

The Chatham House was a gentleman’s club located off of Gilded Avenue where members could rent a room for a price and a limited amount of time for casual meetings. Goblin created wards infused the entire building to ensure no hostile actions could be taken against another inside their walls as it wasn’t uncommon in the past to be invited to the prestigious club only to be carried out the back after a quick spell or poison in a glass. Now such actions were against the rules of the club and could get one not only banned for life but also turned over to the Aurors with the evidence of their wrong doing.

Lucius glanced up as the door opened, and he rose to his feet as Gerald Greengrass, Jacob Nott, Peter Parkinson, Franklin Davies, Thorfinn Bulstrode, Oliver Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle Sr all entered the room. These were the ones that Lucius was sounding out to assist in ensuring that Lord Voldemort never returned to this plane of existence for the best for all their families.

“I thank you for joining me, gentlemen,” Lucius greeted, gesturing towards the chairs and the drinks on the sideboard. “Please, help yourself.”

“What exactly is this business proposition that you wished to talk about, Lucius?” inquired Greengrass as he adopted a casual sprawl in a chair almost directly across from the blond aristocrat. Goyle and Crabbe automatically moved to take the seats flanking Lucius’ own, and he inclined his head in greeting to both of them.

“A little over a decade ago, all of us were temporarily freed from the shackles that bound us to a certain individual,” Lucius began, watching all of them carefully. Each twitch, each flick of an eye, was noted and judged to see if the person was going to explode against him or not. “Since then, no effort has been made to locate this person even after he promised to return. Yet also in that time, our families and businesses have flourished.”

Nott snorted as he gestured with one hand. “I certainly do not want that person to return,” he drawled. “But if he promised to return, I don’t see how any of us could stop him.”

Lucius watched the others exchange glances that practically shouted none wanted Voldemort back but couldn’t think of a way to stop him. He inclined his head. “Have any thought to speak with your Patrons to see if they might be willing or have an idea to protect your families from him?”

Davies and Parkinson shook their heads. “I sincerely doubt mine would want anything to do with me as I was foolish enough to be swayed by honeyed words,” Parkinson stated, frowning into his glass. “The Morning Star isn’t known for his forgiving nature.”

“Yet, he _is_ the Ultimate Slytherin,” Lucius countered with a small smile. “Perhaps you might ask him for a deal to remove your brand.”

Bulstrode frowned at Lucius for a few moments before his eyes widened. “You’ve escaped,” he breathed, leaning forward to get a closer look at Lucius as if he could figure out his secrets from that alone. “You were always a cunning bastard, Lucius Malfoy, but somehow you’ve managed to fully escape him.”

As the others stared at him, Lucius inclined his head. “He’s angered the Dark Mother and the Morrigan,” he announced, getting flinches from all the men even as they continued to hang on his every word. “He cheated them out of their due, and now they want to collect. My Patron was quite upset that another had dared to claim me as his own, and I am currently working to rectify that.”

“And you wanted to sound us out because none of us want the Dark Tosser to come back,”  Greengrass stated, admiration in his eyes as he regarded Lucius. “This also makes a few of your political moves clear now. If you’re working to get back into the Morning Star’s good graces, you're moving on _his_ orders as much as your own political agenda.”

“Frankly, this little island could use a good shaking up,” drawled a voice from the corner, and the others jumped to their feet with their wands in their hands.

Lucius rose to his feet and bowed to Lucifer who was sitting rather smugly there. “My lord, would you care to join our discussion?” he asked, acting as if the Morning Star had just arrived instead of been there since the beginning. “The whiskey is quite excellent.”

“Brandy for me,” Lucifer requested, rising from his chair, and Lucius inclined his head as he also rose. He went to pour Lucifer his drink and was not surprised to see his Patron sitting in his own chair when he turned back around. Walking back, he offered the glass with a bow before standing just behind Lucifer’s seat.

“This is certainly a surprise, my lord,” Bulstrode greeted with a polite bow. “If I had known you were going to be here then I would have brought an appropriate gift.”

“We have much to discuss, all of us,” drawled Lucifer, motioning for the men to resume their seats. He stared at Greengrass. “Lugh asked me to speak on his behalf to you, Greengrass, but he does expect to hear from you before the sun next rises.” The ‘or else’ hung in the air, and Lucien simply watched as Greengrass blanched even as he bowed his head in acknowledgement of those words.

Parkinson tilted his head slightly as he stared at Lucifer and Lucius behind him. “What prince would you ask to remove the Dark Mark that we are branded with, my lord?” he asked, gesturing slightly around the room. “Some of us took the brand willingly, swayed by honeyed words, and others were dragged before him by our fathers with the understanding that we had no choice but accept it.”

That earned the man a raised brow before Lucifer flicked a finger. Scrolls tied with familiar burning ribbons appeared in each man’s lap, and Lucius hid his smile behind his own glass. It would be interesting to see what tasks were placed before them and how they would mesh with his own.

“Each of you has a list of things that I want done,” Lucifer announced, taking a long drink of his brandy. “Should I agree to remove your brand, then you will fulfill everything on that list before you die. If there are still tasks that have not been crossed off when that day comes, the list will be passed on to your children to complete while you remain as a ghost until they are done.”

Draining his glass, he rose to his feet and looked around with narrowed eyes. “When you are ready, call me. If something on your list is accomplished before you call me, then a new item will appear. Don’t think you can lounge around while others work and then reap the rewards.”

There was a sudden gout of flames, and Lucifer was gone. With a casual ease, Lucius walked around the chair and resumed his seat, waiting for one of them to break the silence that had descended even as Goyle and Crabbe opened their scrolls. He had a strong feeling that they would follow him as their houses had an alliance with his which was why their sons were guards for his own while at Hogwarts.

“He is rather reasonable in his anger,” mused Nott, opening his own scroll to read it. “Even if he does seem to favor the Mudbloods.”

“And what is your issue with them?” inquired Lucius, his voice mild as he stared at the other. “They bring fresh ideas and fresh blood to our world.”

“They bring foreign ideas and risk exposing us to the church!” growled Nott, his eyes flashing even as he crumpled the scroll in his hand. “The Inquisition still hunts us, and they destroyed the magical section in Carthago five years ago!”

A faint frown crossed Lucius’ face. This he certainly hadn’t heard of. “Can you explain that? This is the first I have heard of anything happening in Carthago.”

“I have several dealings in Carthago myself,” Greengrass drawled, shifting his gaze to Nott. “I heard it was a Fleur du Mal terrorist who had hijacked the Inquisition equipment there in an attempt to restart Armageddon by killing a Methuselah noble who was there to speak with Cardinal Sforza.”

“It was still their equipment and many magicals vanished when they came through,” Nott argued with a frown. “If they had not been there, then the magicals wouldn’t have been injured.”

Lucius snorted. “That is Gryffindor logic. It is like saying if I had not flown a broom today, my hair wouldn’t have been a mess,” he countered with a pointed finger. “Or all Slytherins are evil because a few Slytherins have decided to conquer the world.”

“Cardinal Sforza was doing a tour of the Vatican Embassies to shore up support after the terrorist attack on Rome,” Parkinson drawled with a small smirk. “There had been a break in at the Embassy the night before, and the Inquisition sent a squad led by the Knight of Destruction to protect the Embassy and the cardinal, and locate the terrorists.”

“If we were able to educate Muggleborns earlier than Hogwarts, we might be able to start integrating them into our traditions and beliefs easier,” Bulstrode remarked, glancing over his own list. “And some may even be able to take those foreign ideas of theirs and make them more palatable for the Magical World.”

Nott shook his head and rose to his feet even as he gripped the scroll in his hand. “If you will excuse me, I have another engagement,” he sneered before storming from the room.

Lucius watched him go with a raised brow, but he otherwise didn’t move from his chair. Nott’s behavior was problematic, but if he turned into a problem, then he would be dealt with. Lucifer Morningstar was not one who tolerated betrayal easily, and Lucien always made sure his enemies were never in a position to harm his family if he even left them alive. His father, Abraxas Malfoy, had learned that the hard way.

Mentally slotting Nott into the category of ‘To Be Watched’, Lucius turned his attention to the rest of his allies as he could see the questions in their eyes.


	17. Dan Granger and Narcissa Malfoy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some secrets come out due to an attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a minor bad guy death here, and I have the image in my head that Fenrir Greyback managed to twist his magic enough that he could partially shift without the moon, so he and his pack are more like World of Warcraft Worgen in looks and shifting abilities. Just my personal head cannon.

Tense and furious, Dan Granger stood at Alexi’s shoulder, his hands clenched into fists as he did his best to ignore the faint whimpers of fear behind him. The other adults had formed a protective ring around Hermione, Ron, and Neville, and Dan glared at one of the werewolves that were slowly spreading out to surround them while the apparent pack leader continued to laugh mockingly from where he held Harry and Draco in his huge arms.

It had been a simple and relaxing day a few days after Harry’s birthday party which had been filled with hyper kids despite how much the adults preferred them to act like miniature adults that were not affected by the copious amounts of sugar that had been ingested. The Study Group, as the five children had come to call themselves, and their families had been invited to a picnic in the forest behind Malfoy Manor, and the Grangers had been delighted to accept. When an emergency root canal popped up, Emma urged him to go while she took care of it, reassuring him that she would simply have a day to herself while he was enjoying the Malfoys’ hospitality.

The picnic itself had been quite delightful with pleasant conversation among everyone, and after the dessert, the boys had decided to explore the nearby plants while Hermione had politely asked Lady Malfoy, Dowager Longbottom, and Paula if the four of them might talk about some things she had questions on. Alexi, Lord Malfoy, Remus and Dan had fallen into a discussion about politics and business while Petros prowled along the edge of the gathering as the usual Auror escort Alexi often had was back at their office for something serious. 

The first indication that anything was wrong was when screams of terror had ripped through the air. The boys had come racing back to the adults who had rushed to meet them only for Harry and Draco to be snatched up by a hulking half man half wolf. Ron and Neville had reached the adults as the rest of the pack emerged from the trees.

“Lookie what we found,” growled the leader, glaring at the group with golden eyes full of hate and lust. “Buncha blood traitors slumming with trash.”

“Really, Fenrir, you should realize that you are outmatched,” Lucius pointed out, sounding as if he was talking about the weather, and Dan had to give him points for keeping cool under pressure. It couldn’t be easy to see his only child in the hands of a savage monster, and right then, Dan wished for the comforting weight of his service gun.

“Ha!” laughed Fenrir. “You won’t do anything to me while I hold your precious heir, Malfoy.” He bared his teeth in a parody of a grin. “Maybe after killing you, I’ll add the young ones to my pack.”

A furious snarl burst out of the mild mannered Remus, and for a second, Dan thought the tutor was going to lunge for Fenrir himself. It was only Petros’ hand on the man’s shoulder that kept him there.

Suddenly, Dan’s arm was nudged, and he risked taking his eyes off of the wolf men to look down to find Alexi’s hands behind his back, holding a revolver for Dan to take. The priest turned prince didn’t even look at him as he took the heavy gun.

“Strong recoil. Six shots,” Alexi murmured, just loud enough for Dan to hear. “Alpha is mine.”

“Yes, sir,” growled Dan, feeling much more secure now that he had a weapon in his hand. Noe, he could protect his little girl and the two boys with her as well as any wizard with a wand.

Alexi took a step forward even as Dan raised the gun in his hands. He had six silver bullets in this gun, and a plethora of targets around him. He hoped he wouldn’t have to pull the trigger, but with his baby cowering behind him, he wouldn’t hesitate in the slightest.

******

Narcissa had moved beyond terrified for Draco to absolutely  _ furious  _ that this mangy fur rug  _ dare _ threaten her child. She would skin him for the parlor if his coat wasn’t in such horrible condition. Her fingers were growing cold, and she knew without looking that there was frost slowly spreading at her feet. It was both a blessing and a curse that when she lost her temper like this that her magic manifested as ice. It was going to take her a while to warm back up after this.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Alexi step forward, and she tensed, ready for any slim chance to save the boys.A small part of her wondered what exactly he was going to do as he didn’t have a weapon, however on the other hand, he  _ was _ the Morrigan’s Raven and probably had more up his sleeve than his arm.

“I am Alexi Vradica, the Imperial Crown Prince,” he announced, his voice ringing through the air with a firm authority. “If any of you wish to denounce this rabid mongrel as your pack leader, a new pack and home will be found for you in the Empire.”

Fenrir barked out a harsh laugh that held cruelty and a touch of madness to it. “These are all my cubs. None of them would  _ dare _ to leave my pack save for death.”

“Lord Lucifer, please accept the corrupt soul of Fenrir Greyback even though it was not Severus Snape who delivered him unto you,” whispered Lucius, and Narcissa’s eyes narrowed in determination. Lucifer may have wanted Fenrir tortured first, but she would personally drive a dagger into the mongrel’s twisted brain for attacking her son.

A sudden crackling sound filled the air, reminding her of static on a cold, winter’s day, and slowly, she turned her head to watch the most amazingly, terrifying sight. The veil and diadem fell to the ground as long silver hair rose into the air, twisting and swaying as if caught in a strong wind none of them could feel, and pale blue eyes flared into a solid, hellfire red. Pale skin became moon white as fangs emerged from black lips, and a pair of rumpled yet powerful black feathered wings ripped through the back of Alexi’s tunic to stretch out behind him, sparks crackling along the feathers. Holding out his right hand palm down, Alexi flexed his fingers, and a stream of blood exploded out from the center of his palm. The crimson liquid rushed out to create a truly nightmarish scythe with a long, barbed tail at the end of the shaft, and Alexi curled clawed fingers almost delicately around the red shaft as if it was made out of fine crystal.

The rest of the pack took several steps back at the sight of Alexi’s transformation, but Fenrir laughed again. “Cheap parlor tricks won’t stop me,” he taunted, glaring at Alexi. “I’ve seen scarier at my master’s side!”

“Petros, catch,” rumbled Alexi, his voice strangely distorted as if whatever created his change was affecting more than his outwards appearance. Before anyone could move, Alexi flicked the barbed tail, and harry and Draco were suddenly flying through the air high over their heads. That was when Narcissa received her second shock when Petros suddenly exploded outward, his form blurring to reform into a large blue dragon! Both boys were easily caught by the Petros dragon, and small whimpers of fear began to come from the wolves. A sliver of satisfaction slid through Narcissa as it served them right for daring to move against her family.

Suddenly, Fenrir began bellowing in pain, and Narcissa’s attention snapped back to him to discover his arms had been neatly removed just above the elbows. Somehow, when Alexi had pulled Harry and Draco out of the werewolf’s grasp, he had also sliced off the cur’s arms even as the wounds were cauterized to prevent Fenrir from bleeding to death.

“Last chance to surrender, Fenrir Greyback,” Alexi announced. “I do not want to kill you, but I will if you give me no other option.”

That explained why Alexi simply didn’t remove Fenrir’s head instead of his arms. Frankly, she would have gone for the head instead, but then she was admittedly more blood thirsty when it came to her enemies. 

Instead of replying, Fenrir snarled and lunged for Alexi. That nightmare scythe flickered through the air, and the two halves of the mongrel’s body fell to the ground, sliding some on the grass from momentum. There was a few seconds of stunned silence before the other werewolves began howling, the sound primitive and a mix of anger and fear. Hissing her own fury, Narcissa readies her magic, and as the first wolf lunged for her, she struck. Spikes of ice erupted from the ground to impale the attacking wolf, his blood quickly staining the crystal ice, and a small thrill raced through her as she watched the light fade from his eyes.

The loud sound of a gun being fired caused her to flinch before five more shots rang out, almost masking the spells as they were snapped out. The loud crack of lightning briefly deafened her, and when the ringing faded from her ears, she looked around to find all the wolves were dead. The Petros dragon had formed a large, heavily scaled wall around the children which also prevented them from witnessing the short body.

“Petros, Paula, please escort everyone back to Malfoy Manor,” Alexi requested, his voice strangely subdued, and Narcissa looked at him to find his back was to them with his wings folded against his back. A concerned frown crossed her face as she took a hesitant step towards him even as she started trembling as her own magic settled down, leaving her cold. Had he been injured during the fight and was hiding it now? “I will tend to the bodies and join you in a bit.”

“Do not be too long or you will be hunted down and dragged back,” warned Paula before starting to herd the group away from the bodies and Alexi. The children climbed up on the blue dragon with only a little bit of urging form Paula, and Dan Granger glanced back at Alexi several times before the trees hid the prince from sight.

“Should we contact the Aurors?” asked Remus as they approached the manor.

“I believe it would be best to allow this to fade into the night,” Dowager Longbottom stated, surprising Narcissa. She would have thought that the old woman would have wanted to report the attack. “A quiet word will be slipped to Director Bones about this attack, but a simple statement that it was handled without any details would be best for all involved.”

“I can agree to that if only to protect the children from testifying,” Granger stated, yet Narcissa knew it wasn’t the children he wanted to protect. Not that she had any objections to protecting Alexi, because that last sight of him had a strange vulnerability about him that had been absent when his legs had been broken and he had been suffering from a curse of boils. She had wanted to wrap her arms around him and hold him until that vulnerability vanished before going to hunt down those that had instilled that in him to begin with.

She paused slightly and examined those feelings. The only others she had ever wanted to protect and avenge were her lovers and son, so did this mean she wanted to include Alexi among her lovers? She huffed slightly and continued the rest of the journey to the manor. She would have to sit down and seriously examine her feelings to see if it was just a side effect to the battle they had just been in or if she was honest in her appreciation for the silver haired prince.


	18. Remus Lupin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fallout from the attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for taking so long to get this chapter out. It fought me quite a bit.

Ever since he was bitten as a child, Remus had been haunted by Fenrir Greyback, and today, his worst nightmare had nearly come true. His cub, Harry, was held in Fenrir’s grip and was so close to being bitten by the feral werewolf and claimed by Fenrir himself. But then, the most unexpected thing happened. The Imperial Crown Prince, who had shown no signs of aggression after the initial threat when Remus had been hired on as a tutor, transformed into what could only be called a dark angel who had easily rescued Harry before destroying Fenrir.

The second shock had come when Petros had transformed into a large dragon, but at least he now knew why his inner wolf wanted to submit to a larger predator. Then the children were encircled by the huge dragon, and he could focus on Fenrir’s pack who attacked as soon as they realized Fenrir was dead. He had managed to throw off the were that jumped him right before lightning had arced down to kill his opponent. 

It wasn’t until he was back in Malfoy Manor that he began shaking as the reality set in. He was free of Fenrir Greyback forever, yet he had nearly lost Harry in the process. WIth a small sob, he collapsed to his knees and threw his arms around his cub, holding him tight. From the arms that instantly encircled his neck to hold him just as tight, Harry wasn’t as unaffected as he first seemed. 

There was a soft pop followed by the scent of hot chocolate, and Remus pulled away from Harry long enough to look next to them. Sitting on the rug was two cups of hot chocolate, and he managed to release his cub long enough to pick up a mug and hand it to Harry. Then he claimed his own even as he kept one hand on his cub, partially afraid that he would lose Harry if he stopped touching him. A quick glance showed that the others were cuddling their children as well with Ron being cuddled by Hermione’s father. 

Petros had resumed his human form and was standing at the windows, looking back towards the trees where the prince was taking care of the bodies, and Paula was standing halfway between him and the rest of the group. Remus wasn’t sure if she was guarding Petros or providing a comforting barrier between the dragon in human form and the rest of the people in the room. A small part of him had to wonder if she was a dragon as well before he realized that was a ridiculous question. It didn’t matter if she was a dragon or not as it didn’t impact her ability to do her job. From how Alexi had acted when he had freed Harry and Draco from Greyback, he was fully aware of his bodyguard’s abilities and had trusted him to safely catch the boys.

“I believe that I speak for everyone when I say that I will swear on my magic to never discuss the abilities demonstrated by the prince with anyone other than those in this room without his permission,” Dowager Longbottom announced, startling Remus out of his thoughts. He looked up at her to find her looking around at the adults before focusing on the children. “To swear on one’s magic is the ultimate promise. If you should break that promise, then you risk losing not only your magic but also your life depending on how Magic feels you must be punished. It is something that isn’t done lightly or for a lark.”

Harry nodded. “I’m willing to swear on my magic,” he announced before shrugging. “He’s my guardian. Alexi has been nothing but honest with me when I have a question, and I’m willing to protect him.” He looked at Hermione and Ron. “Of course, we wouldn’t be able to talk about this with anyone other than us, so you wouldn’t be able to tell your mom or your brothers.”

“Even though I don’t have magic, I owe him my life for something that happened over a decade ago,” Granger announced, startling them all, and he looked around at them. “He has my silence as well.”

The Malfoys looked at each other and a faint frown crossed Lucius’ face. “I would ask permission to speak to one person about the events of today, but he is honorable, and I trust him with not only my life but my son’s as well.”

“You refer to your son’s godfather,” Longbottom stated, her eyes narrowed as she seemed to study them before nodding once. “His oath as a godfather will protect him from doing anything that would endanger Master Malfoy.”

A strange thought hit Remus just then. “If a godfather’s oath will keep him from working against his godson, how was Sirius Black able to betray the Potters?”

There were a few stunned looks passed around before Narcissa frowned, thoughtfully. “I don’t remember what happened at his trial,” she confessed, tugging the cloak tighter around her shoulders. “I admit to being distracted at the time, but I am  _ sure _ I would have remembered what happened at my cousin’s trial.”

“Such a question was posed to Director Bones, and Alexi is still waiting on an answer,” Paula remarked before shrugging. “There have been other distractions, but I will send another inquiry to her in the morning.” She glanced over her shoulder at the windows before frowning. “He’s been gone too long. I’ll go get him.”

“No, he will return on his own,” Petros rumbled, still staring out at the trees. “You know he does not react well when others see him like that. Too many bad memories.” He snorted. “She was probably the only one who didn’t react as he expected, and that might be why he was so loyal to her for so long.”

A bit of movement near the trees through the window caught Remus’ attention, and he turned to watch the prince, once more wearing his veil and diadem, make his way towards the manor. The prince’s body language was defensive and wary as if he was expecting to be attacked as soon as he was in range of anyone else. It was strange to see after the display of power earlier, but if the prince was so secretive about his abilities, then there was obviously a reason behind it. In a way, Remus recognized the defensive posture because he had often utilized it in the past when he had been feeling particularly vulnerable about being a werewolf.

He managed to restrain himself until Alexi was in the room before he rushed over, stopping just in front of the veiled man.

“Thank you!” he blurted out, and Alexi jerked as if he hadn’t been expecting that, but Remus continued, the words pouring out of him. “You saved my cub from Greyback and you freed me and several others from the nightmare he represented to all of us.” He could feel tears running down his face and he wasn’t ashamed to hide them.  He fell to his knees before the prince and threw his arms around the other’s legs, burying his face in the robes Alexi wore. “Whatever you ask of me, I shall do everything I can to fulfill it. I am yours for the freedom and peace you have blessed me and my pack with.”

Alexi was stiff in his embrace, but Remus didn’t really notice as he continued to cling and shake to the source of his continuing sanity. Gentle hands reached down and curled around his arms, tugging him away from the prince, and Remus looked up with reddened eyes at Petros pulled him away.

“You need to stand before your knees ache,” chided Petros, drawing Remus to his feet. “A marble floor isn’t the best place to be kneeling for anyone.”

Remus wanted to protest, to say he was fine, but his knees were aching from even his brief time on the floor. He grimaced slightly as his knees creaked in protest as he straightened up and was pulled back from the prince who was standing in a defensive posture again. Had Remus done something wrong in his excitement to show his appreciation for the prince’s actions?

“Before any of you pledge your families to the House Vradica, I believe you should know a few things,” the prince began, his voice soft and reserved before he turned to face Lucien. “Marquis Malfoy, would you invite Mister Weasley to join us? He deserves to know the truth as Patriarch of the Weasley family.”

Lucius inclined his head. “Of course,” he announced before leaving the room to apparently Floo the man in question. Remus was gently pushed back to Harry who instantly wrapped his arms back around the werewolf as Alexi moved off to one corner before calling for a house elf. There was a pop, and the prince knelt down to quietly whisper to the elf who nodded before popping off. A few moments later, the house elf was back with a pile of black fabric, and the prince quietly thanked the house elf as he took the bundle.

Straightening, Alexi looked at Petros and Paula before saying something quietly in what sounded like Italian. Remus managed to make out the word “secrets” but that was all. He had never been much for foreign languages, but as almost all the spells were cast in Latin, he had a decent understanding of  _ that _ language. Of course, he wasn’t sure if the prince was asking them to reveal their own secrets or not. Petros chuckled and rested a hand on Alexi’s shoulder before replying in the same language. Whatever he said caused a bit of tension to slide out of the silver haired man.

Just then, Lucius returned with Arthur Weasley in tow, and Ron immediately ran to his dad, wrapping his arms around his waist and clinging tightly to him. Immediately, Arthur knelt and scooped Ron up in his arms as the boy transferred his grip to the man’s neck as Arthur stood back up.

“Marquis Malfoy tells me that I have you to thank for my son’s safety,” Arthur stated, facing both the prince and Petros, and he gave them a small bow. He opened his mouth to say something further, but stopped when Alexi held up his hand.

“Please save your thanks for after my explanation,” Alexi requested before looking around at the others gathered there. “If you should decide that you wish no further contact with House Vradica officially, then no ill will shall be held towards you.”

Remus blinked when Alexi removed the veil and diadem, placing them off to one side on a chair Remus hadn’t noticed before. What was going on? He had never seen Alexi without the veil save for the attack today, and even then he hadn’t gotten that good of a look at the man before. Alexi. The prince was much younger than Remus had suspected, honestly looking like he was barely thirty with almost delicate features, ice blue eyes, and lashes that many women would kill for.

“Let me start by saying that the Empress is fully aware of my story, and I have her complete support,” Alexi began, removing the long tunic-like coat he always wore before draping it over the chair, closely followed by his gloves, belt, and shirt, leaving him in just his pants and shoes. The prince was slender but well shaped, as if he was use to physical labor even though his skin was smooth and pale. Combined with his looks, it was amazing he didn’t have suitors lined up to Court him.  “When she was contacted for assistance, she enthusiastically gave it.”

Remus watched as the black material was shaken out and slid on with a familiar ease, and he could only stare at his employer in disbelief as he shrugged into the cassock of a Catholic priest. “My story begins back during Armageddon, but the part that affects all of you starts over twenty years ago when a little blonde girl crossed my path after witnessing the slaughter of her family by Methuselah terrorists.”

Slender fingers easily did up the buttons along the front of the cassock before the brass collar was fastened at Alexi’s throat. “To be honest, she had no reason to trust me, especially when I was stained with the blood of those that had just killed her family, but she did. It took a bit but she confided in me her dream of peace between humans and Methuselah, and I promised to stay by her side to see that her dream came true.”

Two belts were fastened around slim hips before a short, white trimmed black cape was fastened around his shoulders, and he pulled his long hair up into a high tail, quickly and easily tying it with a black ribbon. “Last year, Cardinal Caterina Sforza fulfilled that dream with a Peace Treaty between the Vatican, Albion, and the Empire that ended the Cold War status. True peace will still take time, but now there is a foundation for it.”

A shoulder holster was slipped on under the cape before ear clips were added to his ears, and a pair of rimless glasses were slid onto his nose, making him look like a sort of kindly grandfather. “My actual title and name is Father Abel Nightroad of the Vatican’s Department of Foreign Affairs Special Operations Section.”

“He’s also officially my guardian,” Harry spoke up, startling everyone. Remus watched as the young boy walked across the floor to stand next to the prince turned priest and stare out at the rest of the people there. “He told me some of these things weeks ago, but I promised to not tell them without his permission. If you don’t want to associate with him because of a promise he gave to someone else, then I don’t think you wanna associate with me either.”

Dan Granger walked over and held out the revolver he had been clutching in one hand. “Thank you for the loan, Father Abel. It helped save my little girl today.”

Nightroad inclined his head and took the gun from Granger. With a casual ease that spoke of long practice, he slid the gun into the holster under his shoulder cape. “I hope the recoil wasn’t too much for you, sir.”

“If my wrists hurt, I’ll be sure to ice them later,” chuckled Granger, sounding pleased with himself as if he had managed to solve some little mystery that had been plaguing him for a while. Hermione was like that when things suddenly clicked into place for her during their tutoring lessons. Granger glanced at the others with a small smile. “Father Abel saved my life and the life of my men a bit over a decade ago when the Methuselah terrorists we were hunting decided to blow up the building we were in. He got us all out just before it went up, and while there were injuries, there weren’t any deaths which is always a good day in the Special Services.”

“So  _ that’s _ why you were so happy the first time we met His Highness!” exclaimed Hermione, her face lighting up. “You recognized the prince as Father Abel!”

“And this also explains why you wanted us to wait before we started pledging our houses to yours,” mused Narcissa, her eyes thoughtful as she stared at them. “Yet, you are the Morrigan’s Raven.”

“That goes back to Armageddon and isn’t a very pleasant story,” Nightroad confessed, closing his eyes as he bowed his head, but not before Remus saw shame and guilt there. It was obvious that it was a personal story that hurt quite a bit, and Remus made up his mind right then and there about Abel Nightroad, Alexi Vradica, or whatever he wanted to call himself.

Moving back in front of the man, Remus bowed to him, low and respectful. “You gave me my cub back and offered me a job that I’m good doing,” Remus announced. “You have my loyalty and my service for as long as you wish.”

“It is my understanding that  _ any _ magical that came in contact with the Church was never seen again,” stated Dowager Longbottom, staring at them with a narrowed gaze.

“Cardinal Francesco di Medici, the head of the Department of the Inquisition, believes that anyone nonhuman should be either imprisoned or killed,” Nightroad said with a slight apologetic tone. “And magical fits that ‘nonhuman’ description in his mind.”

“He wishes it was himself in the Papal Throne instead of his half-brother, and is willing to court war to get the power he desires,” Petros announced with a shrug. “To this extent, he uses the Inquisition as his Monsters in the Dark to show what power he has and possibly steal a bit more in his machinations. There are attempts by Cardinal Sforza to limit his actions, but when she can’t, if falls to the Head Inquisitor to interpret orders as best as he can to limit the damage possible for everyone.”

“I am not here for any sort of witch hunt,” Nightroad stated, looking around at everyone. “Two gentlemen approached Cardinal Sforza, each with a Favor Marker from her Ancient Family, and each with a request. The first wished me to investigate Duke Potter’s home life with his relatives and act as I saw fit. The second wished for the assured destruction of the being known as Lord Voldemort as it was believed he had managed to escape the Dark Mother back when he faced down the late Duke and Duchess Potter.” He spread his hands before him. “I only have my word to give you that my only goals are to see His Grace raised in a warm and loving home suitable for his station and the final delivery of Voldemort to Cailleach.”

Dowager Longbottom inclined her head. “House Potter and House Longbottom have been allies for  a few centuries at least,” she stated. “We look forward to adding House Vradica to that alliance while renewing our own ties with House Potter.”

“House Weasley has no official alliance with either House Potter or House Vradica,” Arthur stated, one arm around Ron’s shoulders as the boy stood next to his father. “However, my son has managed to create a strong friendship despite a rocky start.” He looked towards Lucius and Narcissa before offering them his hand. “For the sake of the friendship starting between children, I am declaring the Blood Feud between our Houses to be ended. Are you willing to agree to such a proposition, Marquis Malfoy?”

Lucius inclined his head and grasped Arthur’s hand. “For our children, Mister Weasley, the Blood Feud between House Weasley and House Malfoy is ended.”

Remus saw Harry visibly sag in relief, and he knew that trying to choose between the two boys had bothered Harry for a while. Ron had been his first friend but Draco was becoming a good friend as well.

Arthur turned and approached Nightroad again with his hand extended. “”The House Potter is known to be honest and supportive of its allies while also being ruthless with its enemies,” Arthur stated. “After witnessing the Empress’ actions in the Wizangamot, it is easy to understand that House Vradica is even more ruthless with those that would make them an enemy. House Weasley would like to extend an offer of alliance with both House Potter and House Vradica.”

There was definitely a look of stunned surprise on Nightroad’s face as he took the man’s hand. “House Vradica would welcome such an alliance.”

“I won’t mention your ties to the Vatican to my wife, just yet, as she is rather vocal when protesting something she believes is wrong,” Arthur said before glancing at Ron with a warning in his eyes. Ron’s face lost some color, aking his freckles stand out more before he nodded enthusiastically. Remus managed to resist a smile as he remembered Molly Weasley’s forceful tones at a couple of the early Order of the Phoenix when an order was issued that she didn’t believe was beneficial or would put someone she loved in danger.

Lucius hummed. “I would ask your permission to discuss this with my son’s godfather as he is a very good friend who would wonder if he had fallen out of favor with the family if we started keeping secrets from him.”

“Uncle Severus won’t betray you,” Draco suddenly announced, a determined look on his face. “Lord Lucifer won’t look kindly on him if he does.”

“Nor would the Morrigan for hurting one of her Ravens,” added Narcissa. For a few moments, Nightroad looked torn before he sighed and inclined his head. Narcissa smiled and nodded as she rose to her feet. “I believe with that settled, we all would take comfort in spending time with our loved ones, and perhaps meet again soon? Aside from the end of it, I was having a marvelous time.”

Dowager Longbottom inclined her head. “I was enjoying myself as well, Lady Malfoy. Perhaps at a later time, we might have tea together.”

Narcissa smiled and agreed, and that seemed to be the signal that everyone else was waiting for as they started moving off with polite farewells. Lucius and Arthur promised to meet later in the week to solidify the agreement to end the feud between their families while Narcissa escorted Dowager Longbottom and Neville towards the Floo. Harry, Draco, Ron, and Hermione clustered together with quiet promises to keep up with their studies for the next few days if they were unable to get together for their normal lessons. 

Remus wouldn’t mind teaching them, but that would be up to Father Nightroad. Prince Alexi? Remus mentally shook his head, unsure exactly what to call his employer now, and he knew he would have to talk to the silver haired man about that. 

Right after he spent some time curled up with Harry to reassure his inner wolf that the pack wasn’t broken.


	19. Paula

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Returning to their new home, the group finds unusual and unexpected guests waiting for them.

Paula had to admit that it had taken her by surprise when Abel had decided to confess his actual identity to the gathered magicals, but in a way, she could see the reasoning behind it. There had been talks about official alliances being extended towards House Vradica, and he was just too honest to let anyone pledge under what he would think of as misleading circumstances. However, he was honorable enough to not speak of secrets not his own which is why he had given both Petros and herself the option of speaking their own secrets or staying mute. She had a feeling that more than a few of those that had been at the picnic suspected that she was a dragon similar to Petros, but they were polite enough to not bring it up.

Abel was strangely quiet as they made their way back to Nightshade Manor, named by Seth as both a play on Abel’s chosen name and behavior plus the fact that they were deadly despite their attractive appearance, and Paula watched as Remus gently escorted Harry into the living room. She could already see the man’s fingers trembling slightly and suspected there would be another emotional collapse stronger than the one witnessed at Malfoy Manor. Reaching out, Paula placed a comforting hand on Abel’s arm and frowned when he flinched, hard.

“Come on. Let’s get you some tea and snacks to settle your serves,” Paula murmured, gently urging him towards the dining room. “Then a hot shower.”

“I’m not hungry,” protested Abel, but he didn’t fight her. That alone told her that he was more upset than what he let on or at least off balance. Of course, he probably never had such a large group of people just casually accept him not only as a priest but also as a Crusnik.

“You should probably get out of the cassock and into something comfortable,” she stated, getting ready to call a house elf to bring Abel his bathrobe when she realized there were visitors sitting at the table with tea and a platter of cookies between them. 

The Morrigan was looking far too amused for this to be anything but a casual visit as she sipped her tea. The other woman seemed to be a bit of a contradiction in that she had the regal bearing that Paula was used to seeing in a queen, but her clothes were rough spun wool that looked more like what a peasant would wear. The blue veil laying lightly over her gray touched dark hair may have been a bright blue once but it had faded through repetitive washes and constant exposure to the sun, while her dress had been bleached white. 

The woman looked at Abel with dark eyes before snorting and standing up. “Take off that cassock and sit down before you fall over,” she announced, already tugging off the shoulder cape. “I swear, I don’t know what you were thinking getting dressed up in black wool in Albion during the summer. Are you trying to drop over from heat stroke?”

“I don’t think…” began Abel, a dazed expression on his face as he let her strip him of his cassock, cape, belts, and shoulder holster. Paula bit her lip as she watched Abel be mothered by one of the Ultimate Mothers.

“Apparently,” huffed the woman, shaking her head as she pushed Abel into a chair and placed a cup of sugared tea and a plate of sandwiches in front of him. “Eat. You’re too skinny.”

The Morrigan snickered a bit louder. “He has trouble keeping weight on when he gets stressed, Mariam,” she stated as the Virgin Mary settled back down in her seat. “Always has.”

“That’s just an excuse,” sniffed Mary before pointing a finger at Paula. “You’re not eating enough either, little dragon.”

Knowing a partial order when she heard it, Paula sat down at the table and a plate of sandwiches appeared in front of her as well. “I eat as much as I can, but I end up working it all off running after Petros or trying to keep Francesco from starting Armageddon again.”

Mary sniffed again before looking at Morrigan. “ _ Someone _ will have to do something about him,” she announced, wrinkling her nose as if the thought of DiMedici brought a bad smell to the room. “I know Free Will was one of the gifts to humanity, but  _ that _ one is taking things too far.”

“He is being watched over by a group of dragons who will remove him should he prove to step too far out of line, my lady,” Petros rumbled, walking into the room to bow to the two women before settling at the table at the pointedly raised brow Mary sent him. “Unfortunately, he gets close to that line before backing down again, never giving us an opportunity to remove him from the board.”

“Find an excuse if only to get him committed to a hospital of some sort where he is without power,” ordered Mary, sipping her tea. “Young Alessandro was chosen to lead my son’s believers for a reason, but I will not have that delightful young man in an early grave because of his boorish brother.”

“As you wish, my lady,” stated Petros, and Paula knew that as soon as he was dismissed from the table one of the contingency plans would be put into action to remove Francesco DiMedici from the circle of power and influence for the young Pope.

Mary nodded once before turning to Abel. “What is bothering you so much, young one?” she asked, her voice soft and sympathetic even as she reached out to place a gentle hand on his arm, frowning as he flinched at the contact. “And who hurt you so badly?”

Morrigan tilted her head and looked at the silent Crusnik, her dark eyes glittering with some unknown emotion. “Mariam, would you be willing to have a Confession?” inquired the dark goddess. “I know it’s not something you normally do, but it’s most likely he’d be willing to talk to you that way instead of in front of everyone.”

Nodding once, Mary stood up and grasped Abel’s arm. “Come along, young one. We’re going to have a  _ private _ discussion.”

Paula watched as a dazed Abel was led from the room by the very strong Virgin Mary, and she shook her head as she went back to her tea. All the pictures and stories of the Virgin Mother always showed her as a kind and gentle woman, but they forgot that she was also a  _ mother _ which required a special sort of strength. 

“Care to tell me what happened that resulted in my little Raven’s rather dazed state?” inquired the Morrigan, a dangerous purr to her voice as if she was demanding a list of people to make suffer for Abel’s state of mind.

Picking up another sandwich, Paula told of the attack at the picnic by the now dead werewolves, and Abel revealing his Crusnik abilities to save the children before confessing to be part of the church after to the magicals. And how the magicals hadn’t done more than bat an eye before deciding that they didn’t care about Abel being part of the church or his more fantastical abilities as they had started announcing their decisions to officially alliance themselves with Houses Vradica and Potter. The Morrigan was silent as she listened before looking at Petros.

“Why did you reveal yourself as one of the dragon kin?” she asked, not sounding accusatory but instead fishing for more information, and Petros shrugged a shoulder.

“It seemed the most prudent form of action at the time,” he stated. “We were surrounded by werewolves who were under no compulsion to spare any of us, two of the children were already in Greyback’s grips as hostages, and Dr. Granger only had six bullets in the gun Abel loaned him. Abel shifted to his Crusnik form and managed to snag the boys away from Greyback, and while I could have caught them in this form, I needed to make myself a larger threat to the pack to see if any would back off.” He sighed and shook his head. “They didn’t run, but they didn’t attack the children either.”

The Morrigan hummed and nodded in apparent understanding. “And the Malfoys? Are they honest in their dealing with Abel?”

“As honest as anyone who plays in politics can be,” Paula remarked with a shrug of her own. “The marquis was willing to end the Blood Feud with the Weasley Clan when it was offered by the Patriarch of the Weasleys. The claim was that it was on behalf of the children, but I have a feeling it went deeper than that since those two families have been at each other’s throats for  _ years _ .” She glanced over at Petros before smirking. “He has feelings for the Malfoys. I heard him beating himself up over it this morning because according to him he has to fall for impossible people.”

“Well,  _ that _ will certainly make things interesting,” mused the Morrigan, her dark eyes widening slightly. “And explains a great deal as to why he asked me for leniency towards the Marquis.”

Another shrug from Paula. “I doubt he’d act on his feelings,” she admitted, sipping her tea and feeling as if this conversation warranted something much stronger. And to be held in a dingy bar with the bottle of something strong resting on the table between her and the Morrigan. “What’s that ancient saying? He doesn’t have issues, he has subscriptions?”

Throwing her head back, the Morrigan laughed long and loud, the humor filled sound echoing through the manor. Paula grinned as Petros shook his head, finished his own tea, and stood up before bowing and vanishing from the room. Paula hummed and stood up from the table to head over to the discrete cabinet tucked in a corner, before she returned to the table to place a bottle of good scotch down next to two glasses. A twist of her wrist and soon the amber liquid was in the crystal glasses before the bottle was put down between them with a thunk.

“Tea is hardly the best drink to discuss today’s events or Abel’s emotional state,” Paula drawled, handing one of the glasses to the Morrigan. “

Smirking, the Morrigan took the glass, tapped it against Paula’s and sipped it as they began to gossip about their favorite Crusnik and how they might be able to help him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My inspiration for the Virgin Mary. Someone who is always there for the children: https://miatavonatti.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/VirginMaryWithChildren-1-1920px.jpg
> 
> Mary's name in the original manuscripts of the New Testament was based on her original Aramaic name מרים, translit. Maryam or Mariam. The English name "Mary" comes from the Greek Μαρία, which is a shortened form of Μαριάμ. Both Μαρία and Μαριάμ appear in the New Testament. (from a Google Search on what the actual spelling of the Virgin Mary's name was.)
> 
> And before anyone says anything about "That's not how she would act!", lemmie just remind everyone that Mary was a *Jewish* mother. That's a breed of mother in their own category there.


	20. Abel Nightroad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprising reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for taking so long with this chapter. It does talk about abuse in a general sense, mostly emotional, which is what took me so long since I wanted to get it right. As an author, it is important to me to accurately portray the topics that come up in my various stories. So if a chapter is taking longer than normal to come out, that may be why.

It actually took a few minutes for Abel to realized exactly what was happening, but before he could protest, the woman his instincts were telling him was the  _ Virgin Mary _ had dragged him to the sun room and pushed him down into an overstuffed chair. Then she calmly sat down in the one across from him and looked at him, expectantly.

He opened his mouth to talk, but he found the words sticking in his throat. With a frustrated growl, he stood up and stormed over to a corner and sat down on the floor, curling up in the shadows. He had been managing quite fine on this assignment so far, but now he could feel his thoughts crowding his mind, tangling up until he wasn’t sure what was going on even as his guilt pressed hard upon his shoulders. It had been easy to ignore, to bury himself in the mission to find and dispatch Voldemort, but now, new blood stained his hands as he had shown potential allies his dark side. 

_ What would she know anyway? _ Whispered that dark voice in the back of his mind that sounded so much like Cain.  _ It’s not like the Virgin Mary has blood on her hands and soul while dealing with the fact she’s a monster among decent people. _ It was true as much as he hated to admit to himself. She was a pure soul who never had anyone shriek “Monster” at her before either running away or trying to kill her, and she certainly didn’t have innocent blood staining her. 

Maybe he could find a better guardian for Harry before vanishing. It would be better for the boy in the long run, wouldn’t it? Maybe Seth would take him in since they had gotten off to an amiable friendship when Abel had been laid up with that boils curse.

Someone settled at his side, and he automatically flinched away from them, curling farther into a ball only to freeze at the painfully familiar scents of ginger, cinnamon, and vanilla that he always associated with one specific person. Someone who couldn’t be sitting next to him now because Cain had murdered her over 900 years ago. Abel had seen her lifeless body on the floor even as Cain held her head in his hands like some grisly trophy for Abel’s horrified gaze. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see metallic gold threads woven through the white fabric draped over tanned skin, and he knew without looking that she would be wearing her usual golden jewelry as she did during those final years.

_ Funerary garb, _ a tiny part of his mind supplied, and briefly, he wondered if he had finally gone mad. It was the only reason he could think of for why her ghost was sitting next to him.

“It's not easy when you're the victim of abuse and are still suffering years later,” murmured Lilith Sahl’s ghost, and Abel slowly turned his head to find her golden eyes looking at him with compassion and love that he knew he didn’t deserve. 

“Wasn’t abused,” he managed to mumble before tearing his eyes away from her to stare at the floor next to his feet again. “I’m the reason you were murdered. It’s my fault.”

“You weren’t the one that murdered me, Abel,” she said, her voice soft, and he flinched at the sound. “And you were abused. First by the humans we trusted, and then by Cain when he started manipulating you. He killed me because he was afraid of losing control over you, not realizing that would cause you to lash out at him.”

Abel closed his eyes, wishing it was as easy to close his ears to her words. Her words hurt, pounding against the truth he knew. If he hadn’t started talking to Lilith about possibly ending Armageddon, then Cain wouldn’t have killed her in the mistaken belief that she was trying to sway Abel away from him. He should have kept his distance because everyone who ever cared about him ended up dead. 

“Silly, my death was not your fault nor was Sister Noelle’s,” Lilith said, her voice light, and a faint sound slipped out of him, similar to one that a wounded animal might make. “Yes, Noelle had romantic feelings for you but she could have ran from the building when it started shaking. She didn’t because she found the necessary information to save the Vatican and couldn’t escape in time. That was  _ her _ choice.”

“If I hadn’t been talking to you, then Cain wouldn’t have killed you to keep you away,” he croaked, tears pricking at his eyes. “And I should have been faster to stop Isaak.”

“Had you ever fought him before?” countered Lilith, her voice still soft, and for some reason that tone kept the dark voice in the back of his head quiet for a change. Abel thought about it for a moment before shaking his head. He had never encountered anyone like Isaak Von Kampfer and his multiple abilities that were almost demonic in nature. That had been one person that Abel had been happy to discover had been dispatched to the arms of whatever god wanted him.

“He knew all about you because he was Cain’s second,” Lilith stated. “He knew about your abilities, how far you were willing to go, and even how to stop you long enough for him to complete his plans and get away.” He heard the whisper of hair sliding against silk and the faint clink of her jewelry, and he could imagine her shaking her head. “The deck was stacked against you in Barcelona because of that.”

“I could have killed him in the Vatican to stop him,” whispered Abel, hating the confession that was pulled from him. “He was leaning against the wall, exhausted, and told me all I had to do to stop the Silent Noise Machine was kill him.” He fisted his hands in his pants and curled up tighter, wanting to hide from every accusation he was sure was being directed at him. “I couldn’t. I made a vow to never kill in cold blood again, and with him just standing there, that’s what it would have been.” A slightly hysterical laugh slipped out of him. “I would have sacrificed the Vatican and Rome because I made a promise to you to never kill in cold blood again.”

“Oh, Abel.” Strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him against a very real body. He froze as the realization that she was  _ here _ and it wasn’t just a ghost or figment of his mind. Hesitantly, he raised his head to look  up at her to find that gentle, sweet smile he always dreamed of seeing again, and she pulled him into her lap. A sob caught in his throat as he trembled, curled up in her arms like a lost child. She pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “I release you from your promise. If you have to kill someone to prevent the death of many, you may.”

His head felt too full, too confused, and he was afraid to speak any louder least he shatter into a million pieces. He wasn’t sure he would be able to put himself back together if that happened. She stroked henna painted fingers down his face before tucking a lock of hair behind his ear as she had so often when he had been smaller and more innocent. Lips were pressed to his cheek before three words were whispered in his ear, causing him to shatter.

“I forgive you.”

Collapsing against her as if the strings holding him upright had been cut, he buried his face in her neck and sobbed. His chest ached as if his heart was breaking again, something he thought was impossible as he was sure it had been broken beyond repair that day when Cain had murdered Lilith. Vaguely, he was aware of a second set of arms holding him, sandwiching him against Lilith, but he paid that person no mind as he quietly cried and mourned Lilith’s death all over again. As each second passed, instead of feeling like he was drowning in his grief, it felt as if each tear was somehow washing away the blood that stained his hands and the sorrow that filled his soul.

“Cry out your grief, your guilt, your anger,” murmured Lilith’s voice in his ears, and he was helpless to disobey that quiet command. 

One of his hands was taken and his fingers were curled around two thin sticks. His breath hitched on another sob as he turned his head far enough to see that he was holding two long hair sticks made of a strong silver metal that he knew was nearly indestructible. Each had a lotus made out of jade on the end while long beaded cords dangled beneath them, ending in a cluster of delicate chains to make up tassels. He didn’t have to look farther to realize that they had come from Lilith’s hair, but a small part of him wondered why she had given them to him. The rest of his brain was still rather muddled without much making sense beyond the fact Lilith had said she forgave him.

Gentle fingers that strangely bore calluses from her sword pressed against his cheek, and he raised his eyes to look at her again. She softly smiled before pressing yet another kiss to his cheek. “I can’t stay long, but I want you to listen to me, Abel Nightroad,” she stated, her voice firm, and he nodded, unable to really do anything else. “You are not a monster, and you are worthy of love. Do not close off that large heart of yours out of fear of hurting those around you. Find someone who makes you laugh while you’re in bed together, who teases you until you think your face is on fire from all the blushing yet your cheeks hurt from smiling at them, and who is willing to accept all of you, darkness and light. Find that person or people you can have a conversation with that will push you mentally, debate for hours and then return to the debate weeks later when a new bit of information is brought to light.”

She leaned in and this time her lips brushed against his in a soft caress that felt like a good-bye. “Don’t be afraid to be happy, and never be afraid to love. You never know who might surprise you.”

“Will I ever see you again?” he asked, looking at her as he clutched the hairsticks in desperation as if holding them tighter would keep her there for as long as possible.

“Someday, perhaps, but for now, live your life for you,” Lilith said, running a hand over his hair. “Now, I've asked a friend to visit you in your dreams and just talk with you. You can tell him anything and everything and he won't tell anyone else.”

“For you, I will,” promised Abel, knowing he couldn't really do anything else. Lilith never asked him for favors, not even when she was alive so for her to ask this of him, it was important to her. She smiled and brushed a hand down his cheek before rising to her feet.

A bright light appeared behind Lilith as if someone had opened a door, and Abel shaded his eyes. He could just make out a man in sun bleached robes standing there with his hand outstretched towards her. Lilith smiled and took his hand before the light vanished, taking both of them with it.

He sat there on the floor and stared at the spot where she had vanished for several minutes, feeling rather hollow and completely worn out, as if his guilt had been the only thing filling him up and keeping him going all these centuries. The second person holding him as they sat on the floor seemed completely content to remain like that for a good long while, and Abel closed his eyes as he relaxed against her, giving into the exhaustion his emotional upheaval had caused. Between one breath and the next, he fell into a peaceful, soothing sleep.


	21. Harry Potter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry makes breakfast for his guardian and a bit more about Sirius Black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short sorta filler chapter.

Biting his lip, Harry carefully carried the full tray up the stairs to Alexi’s bedroom with Paula ghosting behind him with a couple of envelopes in her hands. He knew one of those came from the Malfoys because he had seen the seal pressed onto the paper. It had been a couple of days since the attack at the picnic, and Alexi had been rather listless, drifting through the house or around the grounds. Paula had told Harry that Alexi had been persecuted for his abilities before, and it was taking a while for him to understand that people didn’t care about those sort of things. Harry could understand because he was  _ still _ trying to get use to the idea of being the Boy Who Lived even a year later. 

Paula reached out and politely knocked on the wooden door when they stopped in front of it, and he grinned as he heard Alexi call for them to enter. Paula opened the door for Harry who smiled brightly at Alexi who was standing near the window seat, staring out over the grounds.

“Breakfast is served,” chirped Harry in a bright voice, carrying the heavy tray over to a table situated next to the window seat. He managed to set it down without spilling anything before he turned to beam at Alexi. “I thought you might like a home cooked meal instead of one by Tooky.”

“Did you break his heart by forbidding him to cook breakfast?” asked Alexi, but there was a touch of humor on his face as they talked about their House Elf who had come from one of the Potter estates after Harry had claimed everything left to him by his parents. 

“I made it up to him by letting him run out and get some of the ingredients we were missing when I started cooking,” Harry stated, lifting the lids off the dishes to show the various ingredients for a fry up perfectly cooked and ready to be dished up onto a plate. “I didn’t know how much you might want so I thought it best if we served ourselves.”

Alexi inclined his head and gestured for both Harry and Paula to join him. Harry grinned and bounced over to the table to sit down while Paula took her time to claim a seat. He actually enjoyed cooking for Alexi, Petros, Paula, and Remus as he also got the chance to enjoy the food alongside them instead of just watching in a forlorn way as they ate without him.

“Then let us all enjoy this bounty,” Alexi said before offering a polite prayer. While he didn’t insist that Harry worship any specific way, Alexi still gave brief prayers of thanks at the table when the food was set down. Harry politely bowed his head before he poured a cup of tea for each of them.

“You received two missives this morning, Abel,” Paula stated after everyone had a plate of food and a cup of tea, and she held them out to Alexi who put his tea down to take them. “From Madam Bones and the Malfoys.”

“I’m hoping the one from Madam Bones is what we have been waiting for in regards to Sirius Black,” Alexi stated, breaking the seal and pulling the sheet of parchment out. He ate with one hand as he read only to frown and hand it over to Paula. “He never had a trial.”

“ _ What _ ?” yelped Paula, her fork clattering onto her plate as she practically snatched the letter out of his fingers. Her eyes flew over the words even as her frown deepened. Harry continued eating his food, trusting one of them to explain what was happening when it started to involve him. Finally Paula huffed and dropped the letter next to her plate on the table. “At least she’s correcting that apparent oversight.”

Alexi nodded before turning to Harry. “Sirius Black was believed to have been the one that betrayed your parent’s hiding spot to Voldemort that night,” he stated, and Harry nodded in understanding. He remembered some of that coming out when Remus had told him about the people in his album. “He was also your godfather and was suppose to get custody of you according to their will. Apparently, things were chaotic enough during that time he apparently fell through the cracks.”

“And now?” inquired Harry. Was he going to be shipped off to this strange man who had been in prison for so long?

“If he is proven innocent, then I will see that healers help him recover,” Alexi replied before reaching out and placing a soothing hand on Harry’s arm. “However, that does not mean that your custody is going to be instantly given over to a stranger. He will be able to visit once the healers have stated he is able to, but your custody has been given to me, and I take such things very seriously.”

Harry sighed in relief before giving Alexi a bright smile.  _ That _ was certainly a weight off of his shoulders, and he wondered if he should say something to Remus now or wait until after the trial. “And if he is guilty? Will you find out why he betrayed them?”

Alexi inclined his head. “I will make sure Madame Bones asks that question if he is indeed guilty of betraying your parents,” he stated. “I expect a summons if it ends up before the Wizengamot which it might since he was Heir of an Ancient and Noble House.” He tilted his head slightly and looked at Harry. “How are you doing after everything that’s happened? I know it hasn’t been easy for you to have your whole life rearranged so quickly.”

“I’ve had some nightmares, but the man in my dreams has helped a great deal,” Harry answered, sipping his tea. It was actually a bit of a relief to have an adult, even one as strange as Watari the blond haired man in his dreams, willing to talk to him and listen to his problems. Alexi, Paula, and Petros were wonderful in that they did the same thing, but they were also very busy trying to track down Voldemort and make sure he didn’t come back. And despite how friendly he had been with the Potters, it was still hard to talk to Remus about some things. Watari on the other hand, was easy going, quick with a smile or a joke, and comforting in a strange way as they shared tea and just talked. Harry honestly figured it was his mind giving him someone to talk to and work out his problems while also settling his nightmares.

“And did this man give you a name to call him?” inquired Alexi, a curious expression on his face.

“His name is Watari,” Harry remarked before frowning slightly. “A bit of a strange name, but I must have heard it somewhere and my mind decided to use it for the man. He doesn’t look like anyone I know, not even remotely, so I must have made him up.” 

Alexi and Paula exchanged glances before Paula nodded once, and Harry frowned. What was going on? Watari was just a figment of his imagination. After all, why would anyone want to talk with him in his dreams and make him feel better about everything? 

“So, how does Watari help you?” inquired Alexi, returning to his breakfast, and Harry relaxed, knowing that the exchange hadn’t been because something was bad.

“We sit in this really nice garden and talk,” Harry said with a shrug as he worked on his own breakfast. “Sometimes we’ll putter in a potion lab because he said he’s trying to make a gender flipping potion since he wants to understand women better.”

Alexi snorted and shook his head, before turning his attention to the unopened letter from Malfoy. “Tell him that no one can understand women aside from other women,’ he remarked, his eyes flickering over the letter before he turned to look at Harry. “Would you like to have Draco over for a sleepover tomorrow night? Lord and Lady Malfoy have invited me out for an adult’s night and thought you two might have fun together while we were doing adult things.”

“Did they suggest Draco come over or were they thinking I would go over there?” asked Harry with a slight frown. He didn’t object to having Draco over for a proper sleepover, and maybe Ron and Neville could come over as well, but he did object to either of the Malfoys just assuming Harry would be hosting this little gathering because they wanted a night out.

“Actually, they were inviting you over to their place, but I thought you might want to invite a couple of your other friends over and have a proper sleepover with Petros, Paula, and Remus chaperoning the party,” Alexi explained, putting the letter down in favor of his tea. 

“May I invite Ron and Neville?” Harry asked, bouncing in his seat slightly. He was going to host an honest to Merlin sleepover. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure what they would actually  _ do _ at this sleepover, but from what he heard of Dudley bragging of the one sleepover he had gone to, there were games and lots of food and staying up late.

Alexi smiled and nodded. “Write them invitations to be sent by owl after you’re done with breakfast,” he stated. “I’ll do the same with the Malfoys.”

Harry nodded and quickly finished his breakfast, anxious to get started on his invitations. He couldn’t wait for his sleepover!


End file.
